


For a Thousand Years

by suhossineun



Series: the prince and the imposter [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Major Illness, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Byun Baekhyun/Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Minor Character Death, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, Tragic Romance, inaccurate history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 15:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 45,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhossineun/pseuds/suhossineun
Summary: Chanyeol has witnessed the rise and fall of all kingdoms in Korean history, has watched the millennia change with his own eyes, but nothing has prepared him for meeting prince Junmyeon in the unfortunate year of 1762.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Effective_Fest_Round2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Effective_Fest_Round2017) collection. 



> Writing this was an extreme challenge but I really, really enjoyed it despite the moments of utter despair. I hope you all can make it through this lengthy fic, and I hope that my prompter is pleased with how I handled this amazing prompt and au. At least I got to put my almost complete master's degree in Korean studies to good use for this one.

“Good luck on your mission, agent Park.” 

The door of his pod closes with a satisfying noise, and everything goes dark around him. Chanyeol is able to just relax and take it easy by now; he’s done time traveling trips several hundred times now, and so the mechanical aspects of it don’t worry him anymore. He trusts the equipment, trusts that he will make it safe to the other side. He hears the familiar countdown, hears the devices gain speed as they prepare to launch him through time and space- and the feeling on his bones, like taffy being pulled, stretching him beyond the limits of his physical body, the sensation bordering on painful until it’s suddenly gone just as suddenly as it appeared. Everything goes quiet around his pod, and all movement ceases. 

He has arrived at his destination. 

Chanyeol unlocks the pod from the inside, and pushes the door open. It’s dark outside, as it should be; the night hides him from most curious onlookers, gives him a better chance at going unseen. To have his cover blown upon arrival would put a terrible strain on his missions, to say the least. 

He climbs out of the pod, arranges his long robes. The outfits for late Joseon era are not exactly the most comfortable thing ever; long, wide pants, long shirt, long coat over on top, and his hair tied up tightly into a topknot. The hat he puts on now, as it was too big to be on his head in the pod, tying the long strings under his chin to keep it in place. The dress up used to be more fun, when he was still new to this, an agent fresh out of training, but now it’s mostly just cumbersome. 

Turning to his pod, he presses on the invisibility button. It doesn’t make the pod immaterial, of course- but at least it won’t be seen, unless someone literally stumbles on it. He’s supposed to be taken back exactly a week from now, and that’s when he needs to come back to the pod. He has to be in the pod at the exact moment when it’s called back, otherwise it will leave without him- there’s standard protocol for cases when the agent misses the returning flight, as they jokingly call it, but it’s always such a hassle. 

It’s not like Park Chanyeol to mess up his missions, or be late for his returning flights. 

Now with everything in order, he has to reorient himself. He knows where he landed, where he is and where he’s supposed to go, but it’s hard to be sure in the dark. But then- the sound of hooves can be heard, loud and clear in the silence of the night, and soon two horses appear from behind a left curve on the road ahead of him. There’s a lantern in the hands of the rider, although there’s only one of them; the other horse has a saddle on, but there it’s empty. The rider is looking around, curiously, before pulls both of the horses to a halt. 

“Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol can’t help but grin, as he begins to cross the shrubbery that he landed in to get to the road. “You’re late,” he calls out, startling the rider who had not spotted him yet. The horses move about restlessly, young and wild things as they are, but stay under the rider’s control. 

“Being sure of the exact time isn’t always easy around here, thank you very much.” Chanyeol can see the rider’s face now. Kyungsoo is trying so hard to look stern with his brows furrowed, but he’s smiling as well. “Welcome to the 18th century, agent Park.”

“Thank you, agent Do.”

It’s not Chanyeol’s first time here, or in any century for that matter. He’s one of the most experienced agents that the time travel investigators have, and it’s simply down to how diligent he is at his job. He doesn’t make mistakes, doesn’t leave behind gadgets or mess up timelines, doesn’t confuse the locals or influence history unnecessarily. He’s been through all centuries, all of the millennia of Korean history, has seen the kingdoms rise and fall with his own eyes. He could tell many great stories, if it wasn’t required by the nature of his job that the public not be made aware that time travel has been made reality with modern technology. 

He mounts his horse and they head back to the direction that Kyungsoo came from. There’s no one else on the road, as it’s past curfew in Hanseong, a city that would in later centuries be known as Seoul. The gates are closed and no one is allowed in or out of the city, so the roads leading to the city wall are all empty. It’s good for them- two gentlemen are not meant to be caught like this, that is for certain. 

“I have a place where we can stay the night,” Kyungsoo explains. “And then we meet up with the envoy tomorrow to ride into Hanseong. Get you settled in the palace, if we can.”

“You got all the documents? Everything has been arranged?” For him to be here is all in vain if Kyungsoo’s preparations aren’t complete. They both know this, and Chanyeol also knows that Kyungsoo wouldn’t disappoint- but he wants to hear it from him, directly. 

“Yes. You’re going to join the envoy coming from Pyongyang. Your family is from Pyongyang, you’ve been there for three years. Your father passed away, you had to stay by his grave in mourning like a filial son, you know how it goes. Now you’re coming back to resume your duties in the capital.” Kyungsoo sounds so convincing as he says it, and it’s all intel Chanyeol already had. They’ve been planning for this for a long time- one does not simply walk into the palace of the king, not even in this time. The 18th century Joseon is a society very particular about blood lines, purity, and noble families, and Chanyeol has to have records to show that he’s someone worthy of status- worthy of entrance to the palace.

“What happened to the guy?” Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows at him in question. “I mean- the guy whose identity I’m taking.” 

“Ah.” Kyungsoo nods thoughtfully, understanding his question now. “He died, unfortunately. Just months before his filial duty would have been fulfilled. He was buried in relative silence in Pyongyang, and I made sure the news of his passing never reached the palace. They know nothing of it. If they insist your appearance has changed, well, put it down to how much you’ve grieved.”

Chanyeol snorts. “Do I look anything like the poor fellow?” he asks. “At all?”

“Well, kind of. You’re taller than him, for sure, but you don’t look too different.” Kyungsoo doesn’t seem concerned, and that’s good enough for Chanyeol. Kyungsoo is usually the one who carries out the meticulous preparations for his missions. He arrives on sight early, makes sure to gather all the information they will need, and makes up an identity for Chanyeol to grant him access into these places. It’s less glamorous than what Chanyeol does, but it’s just as important, and it suits Kyungsoo well. 

They arrive at the modest house Kyungsoo has found lodging in. It’s an inn, not the best place for an alleged noble to appear at, but the excuse of running late and missing the curfew works well enough. Not that the gossip of these peasants will ever reach the palace, anyway. 

The soft melody of language of days long gone, it fits so right with Chanyeol. There’s something special about each century that he loves, that makes him feel at home, makes him come back. Late Joseon is one of his many favourites- the false sense of calm before the waters of change would wash over all of the Korean peninsula and alter its future forever.

He rests easy, knowing that everything has been taken care of, all preparations are done. He only has to ride into town with the envoy tomorrow, and assume his tasks in the palace.

He’s excited. 

It’s a big mission, too. They’ve had to plan for this for a long time. It’s a tumultuous time in the palace, a tragedy kept hidden from the ordinary people but a story that would live long in the Korean popular culture of the 20th and 21st centuries. The life and death of prince Sado, the mad crown prince. 

It is now Chanyeol’s task to investigate if things really happened as they’ve been said to have occurred- if Sado really was as disturbed as it is said, or if he was potentially framed as such as a result of a political conspiracy. 

The morning comes, bright and pure, and Chanyeol is in good spirits. He gets dressed with Kyungsoo, and they pay for their stay to the owner of the place, gather their belongings. It’s all items Kyungsoo has collected, to make it seem like Chanyeol is indeed returning to the capital after a long time. More will come with the envoy, people who are supposed to be his servants, ready to take care of his house for him. 

He doesn’t know how Kyungsoo did it all, and he’s not going to ask. 

The envoy arrives a couple hours after dawn. It’s noisy, loud, smelly, and Chanyeol lives for this. Lives for moments like these, moments right before the real action begins, where everything feels raw and vibrant.

Kyungsoo rides up front, calls for attention. Chanyeol stays back as Kyungsoo demands for updates on how the trip has been, of how things are being taken care of. He’s the gentleman, the scholar; he wouldn’t know anything of this kind of thing, would he? He has to play the part, and he has to play the part starting now. 

Eventually, they’re able to continue. Chanyeol would want to stay on horseback, just to see better what’s around him, but he knows it wouldn’t be acceptable. So, he gets in the carriage by himself, and closes the door. He can hear Kyungsoo giving orders outside, and slowly the envoy starts moving again.

They make it to Hanseong less than two hours later. Chanyeol is alarmed to this by a knock on the carriage door- probably Kyungsoo trying to make sure he’s not sleeping away in the comforts of it. But Chanyeol has to stay inside, can’t show his face, because it isn’t his duty to deal with the guards manning the city walls and gates. The documentation will have no flaws in it, after all; one thing with forging documents from the past is the benefit of knowing exactly how they all looked like, and being fully able to replicate them in detail. 

They go up and down the narrow streets, moving slower now that they’re not on the dirt road anymore. Chanyeol has to really focus not to get too impatient. It would not be very becoming of a Neo-Confucian scholar. 

Finally, the carriage comes to a halt, and noise around him dissipates, orders around him are being given for this and that to be taken away. Even female voices join in, now, and it’s enough to tell Chanyeol that they have arrived in the family house. At last, he thinks, and opens the door of the carriage to climb out. He’s not noble enough that he would have to be waited on, which is what he prefers. The higher up the ranks he’s gone, the more stifling it has always become. 

Everyone still bows to him as he makes an appearance, but he simply waves his hand to tell them to carry on. Kyungsoo has gotten off horseback, now, and so Chanyeol follows him further inside, away from the courtyard and into the men’s living quarters. There is no one in the women’s quarters now, as he has no wife or concubines, and the servants live in separate buildings around the courtyard. He has this space all to himself, which is quite the change to his small apartment back in Seoul, not that he spends a lot of time there. He’s always out on missions, usually.

“Should I order a bath, my lord?” Kyungsoo asks, his voice a tiny bit mocking as they’re mostly out of earshot of others. Kyungsoo seems to find an odd sense of sinister joy in acting subordinate to Chanyeol- an attitude that says that while he’s willing to play the part when it’s necessary, Chanyeol shouldn’t push his limits or else he will suffer the consequences. 

“Maybe later,” Chanyeol says with a sigh as he steps inside. It’s nice and cool; it’s April, now, and so the summer heat has yet to arrive. It’s pleasant, and probably quite beautiful. He wonders if any cherry blossoms might still survive- he would love to see those.

“Suit yourself.” They take off their hats and sit down together, as tea and food is quickly brought out for them, the master of the house and his closest friend and servant. They make idle small talk as it happens, acting like nothing out of the ordinary, until the women are gone and their giggles can’t be heard anymore. 

It’s always dangerous, to discuss the nature of their job, although using modern Korean helps hide most of it. But speaking in a foreign tongue for no reason is always sure to raise suspicion, so they must always be cautious- but it’s the key to their entire profession, so they’re not strangers to keeping secrets, to avoiding attention. 

“You should present yourself in palace tomorrow,” Kyungsoo says quietly after a lull in the conversation. “We do not have anyone else in there, so you’re by yourself. But you’re not new to the late Joseon court, are you?”

“I was here maybe fifty years ago.” It might sound like a long time, but in the ways of the Joseon court, it surely isn’t. If the Neo-Confucian regime was good at anything, it was maintaining status quo. The static nature of it is what is often blamed for its eventual downfall, although Chanyeol would like to differ slightly; he has experienced the liveliness of it all first hand, after all. But as far as the court is concerned, fifty years might as well have been a blink of an eye. 

“But you’ve never been in 1762 before?” Kyungsoo looks at him, brows raised once more. Chanyeol shakes his head. “Well, then you’re in for something unusual. I don’t think anything compares to the chaos that is currently taking place inside the palace walls.”

“Imjin wars might,” Chanyeol says dryly, and they both share a dark smile over it. Bad times, bad memories. “But I know what you mean. Which makes it all the more important that we carry out this mission properly.”

“That’s on you.” Kyungsoo laughs, and empties his tea cup. “Should we see if the soju is any good?”

“Hell yes.”

***

Chanyeol goes to the palace the next day early in the morning. He’s not nervous per say, as he knows how to play his part; the only issue that might arise would be with his appearance being different from what some might remember it to be. But it’s an issue that he has had to face, several times, whilst exploring the history with stolen identities. Another problem is going to be making connections in the palace. He needs reliable sources of information on what the royal family is doing, or has to find access to them on his own. It won’t be easy, but again- nothing new to him.

Palaces, royal courts, and royal families are his specialties. Throughout times, he’s been to almost all of them; never in too high of a position, as it isn’t his part to possibly alter history or to have his name written down as someone of importance. He’s always there to just observe, to investigate, not leave his mark. But nonetheless, it’s a task that requires insane skill and eye for the detail, which means only the best of the best are allowed to carry out these missions. He’s risen up the ranks through hard work and dedication, and it’s what has earned him his reputation and current position. Chanyeol knows that he’s perfectly cut out for this. 

And not too much has changed, in the fifty years that he has been gone. Everything moves like clockwork, still, everything is as he remembers it. He moves across the courtyards and in the buildings with ease; there are some new elements to the palace itself, but the layout has not changed, and he has studied the blueprints carefully to refresh his memory. He cannot appear to be lost, or confused- he’s meant to return here, not visit for the first time. 

His duties as an official are of no real importance to him, but a crucial part of his coverup. He greets those who greet him, conversing in fluent later Joseon Korean, listens to the old men with feigned interest, promises to do as they ask of him even though they’re courteous to him on his first day back in business. It’s an easy enough routine that he could do with his eyes closed- but the key to this whole mission is to keep his eyes open at all times. Take notice of any of the servants running around with scared looks on their faces, of anyone looking distressed as they move in and out of the royal family’s quarters, of any concerned expressions or tones of voice. 

The fact of the matter is- the palace is indeed in complete chaos. Crown prince Sado, or as he’s known by his real name all the way until his unofficial execution, Jangheon, has long since descended into madness. By April of 1762, he has already killed one of his consorts as well as many of the servants in the palace, taken by force ladies-in-waiting, abused his wife for years, and just gone insane, to put it very simply. Even getting him dressed in the mornings usually means more lives are lost, as well as several garments burned and destroyed. The crown prince has not been fit to rule at any point in his life, but it’s by now that it has become obvious to all what kind of danger he poses for the continuity of the Yi dynasty. 

With that in mind, it is no wonder that even on his first day, Chanyeol is able to notice the evident signs of distress everywhere. A sense of overall unease lingers in the palace; although most officials and servants are probably not supposed to know of what is going on inside the deepest parts of the palace, there’s absolutely no hiding the madness that has continued for several years already and only continues to get worse. 

He doesn’t ask of it, doesn’t bring it up- he can’t make it known how sharp his eyes are, how much he already knows. He will give it some time, before asking anyone. He has to make alliances, has to find out who is a friend and who is not, before he has ask probing questions about the state of the royal family. 

What he does not expect, is to be called to see one of the brothers of the insane crown prince. 

“Are you sure that his highness is truly asking to see me?” he can’t quite hide his surprise from the official who delivered the invitation to him. “Surely, the prince has more important matters than talking to someone like me.”

“The prince wishes to hear how things are in Pyongyang,” the official explains with an air of indifference. Clearly, there’s nothing about this that concerns him. Perhaps the prince has a habit of speaking with people he technically isn’t supposed to talk to. There is absolutely nothing Chanyeol can do or say to refuse the invitation, although a concern does cross his mind; what if the prince used to be close to the man Chanyeol stole his identity from? It wouldn’t bode well for him, if that were the case. 

He’s taken deeper into the palace, although not to the real heart of it. Prince Junmyeon is not in direct line to rise to the throne, born from the union of the king and a concubine, so he doesn’t reside with the core of the royal family. He’s waiting for Chanyeol in a luxurious tea room, seated comfortably on the floor, dressed beautifully in expensive silks, looking more peaceful than anyone else Chanyeol has seen in the palace thus far. When Chanyeol walks in and bows, he nods his head in greeting, but doesn’t get up- he doesn’t have to. Even as a son of a concubine, he’s of higher status than Chanyeol.

He’s a beautiful man, Chanyeol can’t help but notice. He’s ethereal, with his pale skin and symmetrical features- if he wore his long hair down, he would surely pass as a woman. He’s regarding Chanyeol with clear, thoughtful eyes, obviously curious but also mindful of his manners to not let that shine through too much. 

“Your highness wished to speak with me.” Chanyeol sits down as prince Junmyeon motions for him to do so, mindful of his posture and of the way he speaks. Etiquette is something that allows no slip-ups, even in front of a prince with no real position or power.

“Yes, I did.” Prince Junmyeon smiles at him slightly, his hand brushing over the book placed in front of him. “It’s been a while since anyone has arrived from Pyongyang directly- I wished to know if you can share any news with me. How things are over there. If the people are happy, or, to be frank, if they resent Hanseong, or feel content with our rule. I know you were there to take care of quite unfortunate matters and your focus must have been on properly mourning your late father, as is our duty to respect those who gave us life, but I wonder… I wonder if you might still have something you would be able to share with me.”

That the prince has such interest in the matters of the kingdom is quite surprising. Prince Junmyeon is not in a position to ever rise to the throne, as only sons from legitimate marriages are acknowledged, unless he’s planning to take it by force. He seems gentle, but Chanyeol shouldn’t let that fool him- everyone in the palace is cunning, that is no secret. But assuming that he is not preparing for a coup d’état, he has no reason to be so invested in the happenings of Pyongyang, or even Hanseong itself. He clearly has quite a bit of interest in the palace at large, however, considering that he knows why Chanyeol was gone and that he has returned as well. 

Luckily for him, Chanyeol is prepared to answer questions about the city he supposedly lived in for three years. News and gossip do not travel very fast in this time, since the terrain is so difficult to travel, and he imagines that most people would ask him questions out of personal curiosity, if nothing else. So, he tells prince Junmyeon what he has told everyone else so far: meaningless facts about the harvests and how the peasants are behaving, of what the big, influential families have been up to. It’s hardly of any use to even the king, but prince Junmyeon listens to him with rapt attention, nodding along thoughtfully to everything he says.

It’s a bit unnerving, but if there’s anything Chanyeol is good at, it’s the art of bluffing. 

When he’s done talking, a moment of silence lingers between them. Prince Junmyeon stares out the windows, biting his lower lip in thought. It’s hard to say what he’s so troubled by, but then again, Chanyeol understands very little of his motivation to talk to him in the first place. He finds himself quite distracted by his beauty, embarrassing as it is, but he can’t help but appreciate how easy he is on the eyes. Having travelled through time and having lived through several millennia, Chanyeol knows what he’s talking about when he says that he rarely comes across someone as gorgeous as the prince.

“It is good that everything appears well in the north,” prince Junmyeon finally utters. “It is… good. If you wonder why it was me who asked and not, say, the king, it is simply because how… occupied he is elsewhere. But I will relay this information forward to where it will be of use, do not fret. You have served this country well today, by speaking with me.”

“It is… admirable that your highness has such interest in the matters of the kingdom,” Chanyeol ventures, watching Junmyeon’s face. Could prince Junmyeon be his way of figuring out what is going on deeper in the palace? If he could talk to the prince more often, perhaps he could win his trust, and receive more classified information from him. It’s worth a shot, at least. 

Prince Junmyeon flashes him a timid smile. “I try to help the king where I can,” he says quietly, hands wrung together. “There’s not much… for me to do. But I try to help, behind the scenes at least. I see it as my duty.”

It isn’t his duty, though. Prince Junmyeon is a bird in a cage; born to such high status that he cannot lead a normal life, but also locked out of power because of the circumstances he was born in. He would probably make a perfect candidate to be the crown prince, but blood lines are important. He has been born in what many would consider to be disgrace, and there is no fixing that after the fact. 

Chanyeol feels for him. As much as he enjoys the times past, the rigid society and its rules have always been something he’s despised. He himself is from a modest background, back at home- his parents never had a lot of money, and he was able to get to where he is only through hard work and dedication. It isn’t fair that prince Junmyeon’s hard work and loyalty to the throne won’t be rewarded while there’s a literal madman in line for the throne.

“If I can be of any service to your highness, I would gladly do so.” He bows down politely. “I am quite moved by your loyalty to the country and its people. It would be an honor to serve you, your highness.”

Prince Junmyeon nods his head. “I would be honored, too.” But it’s all he says before dismissing Chanyeol, and Chanyeol has no way of knowing if anything will come of this.  
But it is only the first day, and he still has time. It is only April, and the crown prince won’t be executed until the end of July. It is Chanyeol’s task now to find out whether it is because the crown prince is insane, or if it’s a political assassination.

***

He spends the next week trying to establish friendships and loyalties at the palace, working his way towards understanding who can be trusted, who is willing to divulge sensitive information, and who might pose a danger to him if they found out that he’s going around asking sensitive questions. He doesn’t make impressive progress, but he doesn’t feel disheartened. Missions like this are never meant to be easy, after all. It’s exactly the kind of challenge that he enjoys.

His pod is due to take him back to the present day, and for that he needs to ride out of the city. He leaves the house on the excuse that he wants to enjoy the nature, maybe practice his painting skills by sitting down to capture the beauty of landscapes surrounding the city. It’s a flimsy excuse, but no one questions it, and so Chanyeol sets out with Kyungsoo.

The big benefit to time travel is that he doesn’t have to be gone from this era at all. He can go back home, be there for however long he needs to, and then travel back right to the exact moment that he left. The laws of time travel are complex and intricate, but working within them, it allows for great many things.

He gets back into his pod, Kyungsoo holding their horses, and closes the door. The small clock reads two minutes, counting down second by second, and he has just enough time to get comfortable before he can feel the pod whir back to life. He doesn’t have to do anything; the pod has been programmed to return home at this exact moment, and it will do so regardless of whether he’s in it or not. 

Chanyeol closes his eyes, and opens them in the year 2017. 

Someone knocks on his pod, and he opens the latch so that he can swing it open and step outside. He blinks and squints his eyes, trying to adjust to the bright lights of the facility, and the face of the machine operator comes to focus slowly but surely. 

“Good to see you, agent Park.” Baekhyun’s voice is full of mirth, his flaming red hair a stark contrast to the sleek greys and whites of the pod room. “I mean, I would have preferred to have my boyfriend back, but I guess you’re good as the second-best option.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, and smacks the back of Baekhyun’s head. “Kyungsoo told me to tell you he doesn’t miss you one bit,” he says just to spite him, as he begins to head out of the pod room where pods are almost constantly disappearing and reappearing, other machine operators walking about and checking on the arriving agents. “Said that he much prefers the peace and quiet of the 18th century over your obnoxious ass.”

“Someone got out of their pod on the wrong foot today,” Baekhyun huffs, following him out. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s exactly what Kyungsoo says about you,” Chanyeol grins, and purposefully messes up Baekhyun’s hair. “No but really- it’s good to see you, shrimp.”

“Fuck you.” Baekhyun flips him off and marches off to carry on with his duties. It’s fun to mess around with him, especially because Chanyeol tends to come back more often than Kyungsoo when they’re both on a mission like this. It gives him a chance to bully both of the lovebirds, just for the heck of it. 

The laws of time travel mean that while they can travel back in time to any specific place and time they wish, whatever time they spend in the past also passes for real in their present time. Since the pods are programmed to return after a certain time, that time passes in both timelines. It would require them building another time machine in the past to be able to control the timeline of the present the same way they can manipulate the past, and that simply isn’t possible, with what the electricity and everything. So, since Kyungsoo has to sometimes spend weeks at a time preparing for the mission and assisting Chanyeol, he’s gone from the present time for just as long. Chanyeol knows it to be tough on them both, but at least Baekhyun has a stable job as a technician. If he, too, were to be an agent, they would probably never be in the present day at the same time. 

There’s a reason why most agents don’t date, with the kind of job that they have, and Chanyeol hasn’t been in a relationship for years either. He’s married to his job, and he likes it that way. Watching Baekhyun and Kyungsoo pine for each other makes his heart hurt in a decidedly uncomfortable way. 

He doesn’t have to stay for very long, at least. He only has to report on how things are going, and pick up gadgets and items he thinks he might need going back. Standard stuff; he could have easily stayed in 1762 for longer, but with a high-profile case such as this, where the royal Yi family is concerned, there’s a bit more bureaucracy and protocol to be followed, writing detailed reports included. 

When Baekhyun sends him back, he arrives in 1762 at the exact moment that his pod left it at. Kyungsoo doesn’t even seem startled, or interested, just impatiently waiting for him to get out of his pod and to hide it from view. 

“Baekhyun said he doesn’t miss you at all,” Chanyeol teases him as soon as he makes it back to him and the horses. “Said that he likes that he can be as much of a pig at home as he wants, and no one will complain about it. He thinks it’s awesome.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at him. “He tells that to my face, to be quite frank, so if you think you’re going to get a rise out of me with that pathetic attempt, think again.”  
Well, at least he tried.

***

It’s a couple of days later with no significant progress to speak of, that prince Junmyeon sends for him again. It’s the same tea room with prince Junmyeon seated at the exact same spot, although the clothes he’s wearing are different this time, the only thing breaking the illusion of no time having passed at all. He greets Chanyeol politely, and gestures for him to take a seat in front of him.

“I hope you’re not finding it difficult to get used to the palace and the court again,” prince Junmyeon says gently as he watches Chanyeol pour them tea. “It must feel quite overwhelming, after having been gone for so long, doing something so different.”

“Ah, yes- thank you, your highness, for your concern,” Chanyeol diplomatically says, “but you needn’t worry. I’ve found it quite enjoyable to be of use to my country again- I think, although forgive my boldness for saying this, that it might be something your highness can understand quite well.” 

Junmyeon smiles softly at him, before lifting up his hand and covering his mouth with his wide sleeve as he coughs. He takes a long sip of the tea afterwards, before he speaks again. “You needn’t be so worried about being polite with me. I’m not very particular about that, and I’d rather you speak with me comfortably. This is not a formal setting, at all. Besides, we’re quite close in age, I would assume.”

“Your highness is a bit younger,” Chanyeol replies. It’s true for both the identity he has stolen, as for him personally. “Your highness is very kind, to extend such courtesy even to someone like me.”

“So I could call you hyungnim, then.” Junmyeon is smiling a bit cheekily. He’s very polite and courteous, but there’s a hint of that spoiled prince in him Chanyeol is so used to seeing through all eras and dynasties. It’s honestly quite charming on him, too. He’s much too well-behaved for it to make him sound bratty, but it adds to his youthful appearance when he’s not being overly serious about the matters of the kingdom. 

“Did your highness have something to ask me today?” He takes a sip of the tea. It tastes medicinal, herbal- not something most people drink for their pleasure. He barely hides his displeasure with the taste, but doesn’t comment on it.

And Junmyeon does have questions, about Pyongyang mostly. It’s good that Chanyeol made sure to fact check when he went back, just in case the prince might think to ask to see him again, so he can give confident answers and know them to be true. Junmyeon listens to him thoughtfully again, nodding quietly.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble… Could you write me a detailed report of this, hyungnim?” Junmyeon asks eventually. “Just so I don’t forget details, or in case it might bring forth more things worth mentioning.”

Writing in scriptures of the times past is not Chanyeol’s favourite thing to do. He’s of course fluent in Chinese characters, he has to be, but he’s always fearful of making mistakes like using characters not known or not used in the time period he’s in. It would be quite unfortunate to slip up like that, even if some things can always be excused by his ugly handwriting. But there is no way for him to refuse the prince. 

“Of course I will. It would be my pleasure.” 

“Thank you, hyungnim.” Junmyeon’s smile is so pleasant, so soft. “I have a question to ask of you, however. I’m curious about the strange jewelry you wear on your wrist- I have never seen such a thing. Is it very fashionable in Pyongyang, perhaps?”

Chanyeol’s heart drops to his stomach upon hearing those words, and he doesn’t even have to look to know what Junmyeon is referring to. It’s his watch on his left wrist- he wore it today to better track the routines of the palace and the court, to be more exact with the notes he would be writing later. While sun clocks do exist and the like, there is no way for him to measure time other than eyeballing the sun itself, and it has never been his forte. Wearing a watch has always worked for him in the past, especially with the wide sleeves that are custom to the clothes of the late 18th century, but he realizes now that he had accidentally pushed the sleeve up to absently scratch an itch on his arm. 

It’s such a rookie mistake to make. He wants to slap himself for screwing up something so simple, so stupid. He’s above making foolish mistakes like this. He will not hear the end of it if this ends up being why the whole mission has to be called off. 

But he will have to scold himself later. He pulls his sleeve down again, flashing prince Junmyeon a fake smile. He can only hope that the prince doesn’t catch on how forced it is. 

“Ah, this… It’s a keepsake from my father. He bought it off someone very skilled at handling precious metals, although I don’t know where or when. It is something very dear to me, if your highness understands.”

It’s all lies. Obviously it is; there is no way anything like this could exist in this time. It’s much too bright, much too shiny, and the whole mechanism of the modern watch… He’s been accused of sorcery and black magic for less than this. 

Prince Junmyeon nods his beautiful head, eyes lingering on Chanyeol’s now covered wrist for a while longer before he makes eye contact with that bright smile of his. “It looked quite beautiful, but I understand it must be very precious to you. It is alright to be sentimental… I am, too, with what I have left of my mother’s possessions.”

The grief and sadness in Junmyeon’s voice are palpable, as he brings up his late mother, although his smile falters only a little. Chanyeol feels like such a fraud- here the prince is, opening up to him about something, when Chanyeol’s parents are both alive and well some 200 years in the future. But lying, and the guilt that follows it, are also a stable part of the job. 

“The only thing we can do is to make sure our deeds remain in history, so through us, our parents can also be remembered,” Chanyeol says calmly, following the Neo-Confucian teachings like a good scholar should. Buddhism and shamanism are more for women, although he wouldn’t be surprised to discover that Junmyeon dabbles in them too. The Neo-Confucian dogma has so little to offer to someone like prince Junmyeon, the bird in a cage with no way out no matter how diligently he studies to better himself. 

Junmyeon sighs, and lowers his head. “I cannot do much more than assist my father in being a great king,” he replies, “and even less for my poor mother. But the least of all I have been able to do for my brother, crown prince Jangheon.”

This is the first time prince Junmyeon has mentioned the crown prince, and it immediately makes Chanyeol perk up. The fact that the prince is willing to even bring this up is a good sign- a sign that Chanyeol should pursue a closer friendship with him, to possibly find out even more. 

“Some matters just… are out of our hands.” He tries to sound wise and calm. He shouldn’t look too eager to gossip. “Your highness is already accomplishing much, by helping the king like this. I’m sure your highness also plans to do this for the crown prince, when his time to sit on the throne comes.”

Junmyeon wrings his hands together, before he has to cough again and he lifts his hand up to hide his mouth. “That is what I intend to do,” he says with a small voice after the coughs have subsided. “But I don’t know… if my brother should ever sit on the throne, no matter who is there to help him.”

There isn’t anything Chanyeol can do to refute that, but also nothing he can offer in the way of comfort. Surely it wouldn’t please Junmyeon very much to know that his brother is to die before the summer is over, not to mention how divulging such information might change the flow of history forever. 

Chanyeol doesn’t even want to think about the consequences. But at least prince Junmyeon seems to have forgotten all about his watch by the time they part ways, which is a relief. Chanyeol makes sure not to slip up again for the rest of the day, and immediately hides his watch in a locked chest when he gets home. He decides not to tell Kyungsoo though, because he knows he would never hear the end of it if he did.

***

Visiting the young prince becomes routine after that. It isn’t every day, but it is frequent nonetheless. It feels like Junmyeon is thirsty for someone who will talk to him less like he’s royalty, for he keeps inviting Chanyeol to come and his eyes are so bright every time they talk. And the young prince always talks to him like they’re on even ground- more like they’re peers, almost, not a royal prince and a government official. It isn’t common, not in this day and age, where hierarchy is strict and the social classes harshly divided.

He’s an intelligent man who reads and thinks a lot, and even writes a fair amount. He’s thoughtful, but lacks people to share his honest ideas and thoughts with, but he seems to find that in Chanyeol, who as a young scholar is less judgmental of his unconventional thoughts than most others would be. Not that this is ever explicitly said- it’s just what shines through to Chanyeol, in their private conversations. Chanyeol also assumes that no one else really entertains Junmyeon’s ideas like he does; after all, Junmyeon is not that important of a figure in the political world within the palace walls. He’s a nobody, and has been cast aside just like that.

Chanyeol does feel kind of bad, though, knowing that he is only so eager to listen because he hopes to regain more insight into Junmyeon’s half-brother. But also, he fails to see the harm in letting the prince talk about his wishes for the future of Joseon, or what he thinks about the current tax system.

It’s always informal settings, too, either seated in Junmyeon’s private quarters or even walking around the gardens. They enjoy tea and sometimes even meals together, sometimes discussing policies and even debating sometimes. Prince Junmyeon has a sharp tongue when he so wishes, but he also always listens to Chanyeol very attentively. Chanyeol really has to watch his mouth, so that he doesn’t go and suggest anything too dramatic; his detailed knowledge of the social ills of the day shouldn’t interfere in the politics of 1762. He’d get in terrible trouble for that, if that were to happen.

Junmyeon just makes him so comfortable, listening to him so eagerly and talking to him so animatedly about the things he’s passionate about. He feels an odd sense of affection for the young prince, despite how they’ve only known each other for such a short period of time. 

It’s hard not to feel that way about Junmyeon, who is so brilliant and bright, in every sense of the word.

Their conversations take a more personal turn one day when Chanyeol notices a book next to prince Junmyeon on the cushion he’s seated on. He can’t quite make out the hanja written on top, but he can figure out enough to think he knows what title it is.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and he seizes the opportunity to gently prod the prince about his reading preferences. “Is that the Nine Cloud Dream?” he asks, doing his best to sound nonchalant. It’s a piece of Korean literature to become iconic in the later years, and it already has a reputation even in the 18th century, some hundred years after it was written, but he knows that it holds elements that might not be becoming of a prince to read. He wouldn’t want to embarrass the young prince. 

But to his delight, Junmyeon only seems excited to talk about the book. “Yes! Yes, it is. I really do quite enjoy it. Has hyungnim read it, too?” He lifts up the book to place it on the low table between them so Chanyeol can see. It’s a beautiful edition, most likely hand-written, and it looks well-loved. The value of this work would be beyond measure if Chanyeol could take it back to the present day, but he has long since learnt not to crave for riches. He gets paid well enough not to be susceptible to corruption, at least. 

“I’ve read it, indeed. Have you finished it? Tell me, what did you think of the story?”

And Junmyeon tells him, with bright eyes and gentle laughter, as they discuss even the more scandalous stories depicted in the book. His excitement for literature is beyond adorable, and makes Chanyeol’s heart so soft just listening to him. 

Discussing works they’ve read becomes habit after that. It’s no longer just in-depth conversations about policy changes and the like, but also discussion on sijo poetry, classical Chinese literature, even work by writers that would become obscure in the later centuries and be forgotten entirely. It’s delightful, and it becomes evident just how lonely and isolated Junmyeon has been; he has a lot of things bottled up, a lot of things he wants to say and discuss, but also an endless amount of time to read and read even more. Chanyeol has to really put all his knowledge of classic literature to use, to match up to how knowledgeable prince Junmyeon is.

Chanyeol also finds out that Junmyeon plays the geomungo very well, and it’s always a pleasure to have him play, or even play and sing. It takes a lot of persuasion at first to get him to do it, and even after that it always makes the prince flustered and embarrassed, but it’s such a cute look on his small face that Chanyeol can’t resist the temptation to ask him to perform. Sometimes Chanyeol will humor him and sing with him- his technique for singing in this language and style isn’t always the smoothest, but Junmyeon doesn’t seem to mind much. He’s amazing with the instrument, and quiet as it is, it makes up for the faults in Chanyeol’s singing.

And slowly, somewhere in the middle of poetry, music and current affairs of 1762, Junmyeon begins to open up to him. 

“I don’t resent my place in the royal family,” Junmyeon tells him one day. They’re seated outside in a pavilion, enjoying the late April weather, and Junmyeon’s geomungo is still resting in his lap after playing it for a while. It’s quiet, only ladies-in-waiting and servants walking across the pathways every once in a while. “But sometimes I wish… I wish I was free to do what I want.”

Chanyeol looks at him thoughtfully. He’s discovered by now that prince Junmyeon has a very gentle soul. He reads poetry quite passionately, cares about the people around him very much, and worries for the wellbeing of the kingdom as well. He’d be better suited for a position less stressful than this- a position of relative freedom, instead of being tied to the royal family with so little power to actually do anything. 

“If your highness could choose, then what would you do?”

Junmyeon laughs softly, and coughs into his sleeve daintily. “I would write,” he admits in a hushed voice like this is a sinful secret he’s confessing to. “I would write, and play music. Maybe learn another instrument. Or I would travel. I’ve always wanted to see China, as I’ve read many great things about it. Even if it has fallen under the rule of barbarians.”

They both share a quiet laugh together, and Chanyeol pours them more tea. “I can see how that would be tempting,” Chanyeol says after sipping from his cup. “I think… I think I would enjoy adventures.” As the scholar that he’s posing as, he cannot admit to have ever truly experienced anything exciting. It wouldn’t make sense, for a son of a renowned family of exemplary scholars, of true yangban as they were called. But he wants to share something with prince Junmyeon, something personal, when he has always been so open and sincere with him.

Prince Junmyeon’s eyes are sparkling as he looks at Chanyeol. “Would it not be great, hyungnim, for us to travel together? See the world together, and not worry about a thing except for writing it all down in travel diaries and poetry.” He looks years younger as he says that, his enthusiasm palpable even if both of them know it’s just useless daydreams. “That is what I would wish to do, if I had the freedom to choose. But just like a peasant is tied to their land, a slave to their master, I am also tied to my fate here.” And just like that, the joy is gone, and he coughs again into the palm of his hand before growing quiet again. 

Some servants run across the yard, and prince Junmyeon sighs quietly. “The crown prince has been causing a lot of trouble,” he says offhandedly, glancing at Chanyeol. “I mean- even more trouble than usual. It has gotten increasingly difficult to get him to put on clothes in the mornings, and as you can imagine, his nude form… isn’t quite proper.” 

It would be funny, if Chanyeol didn’t know that the crown prince’s tantrums over his clothes can end up in people getting killed. Truly, there isn’t any amusement to be found in all this.

“He… violated yet another lady-in-waiting, as well as hurt his wife, lady Hyegyeong, quite severely. I heard the bruises are really unsightly.” Prince Junmyeon’s fingers wander across the instrument, plucking at the strings with no real melody. “The king is upset, but we all know there is nothing to be done. Nothing is helping…”

Chanyeol takes a sip of the tea before replying. He’s long since grown used to the medicinal teas the prince seems to prefer, although he would still prefer something sweeter, something more palatable. “Crown prince Jangheon has always been quite… not of the right mind, hasn’t he?” he ventures. “I am no doctor, so I do not know what it could possibly be… But for some things, there simply is no cure.”

Junmyeon hangs his head down, looking even smaller than usual. “When we were still young, he was well,” he says quietly. “I remember playing with him, when I was still a child. I never thought anything was at all wrong with my beloved hyungnim, but then he fell sick… and he never quite recovered.”

This is not news to Chanyeol, who has studied the existing records carefully. It is true that the mad prince Sado suffered from a strange illness at the age of ten, often losing consciousness during it, and it has been often said that he wasn’t the same once he did recover full health. But it is important to hear it confirmed by prince Junmyeon, who has had a personal relationship with the crown prince. Everything he has seen or heard thus far seems to confirm that Sado really suffered from an illness of the mind of some kind, with very dire consequences for the entire court. But the truth about his death is still something he has to investigate further.

“But sometimes…” Junmyeon’s voice is so quiet now that it’s difficult to hear him. Chanyeol leans in closer to hear, watching his pink lips move as they form words. “Sometimes I wonder if the king made him even worse. Of course, he had to be hard on him, to raise him to be a good king as well, but poor Jangheon hyungnim… His mind is fragile, and I fear- I fear that father broke it for good, beyond anything that could be repaired.”

Junmyeon lifts up his head to look Chanyeol in the eye. “I love them both very dearly, and will always be loyal to them both as the son and the younger brother,” he says, and his voice is heavy with meaning and sincerity. “But I know some things didn’t go right between them. There is no helping that now, my brother is not ever going to recover… But it is the truth. I just wish I had been the crown prince instead, because I would have been able to withstand it. I would shoulder everything crown prince Jangheon is supposed to, and I know I would endure. But alas…”

The sadness and grief of the prince is what lingers with Chanyeol even as he returns to his home, even as he writes his notes to be taken back to the present time next time he goes. If only there was anything he could do for him… But he knows it’s his duty not to meddle. To leave everything as it should be.

***

Chanyeol is due to take the pod back to year 2017 in a couple of days, to report back on his findings and the current state of affairs with his mission. It’s early May, now, and he hasn’t made much progress. So far, he’s discovered that the historical records have been mostly true; the crown prince appears to be just as described, and prince Junmyeon hasn’t revealed anything to him that would change the narrative in any way. Not that it is a bad thing though. These missions aren’t always about changing history books, or finding out something revolutionary. That is not at all why these trips to the past are made. From the research standpoint, no new information is almost just as valuable as a new discovery. Confirming facts, even if already previously known, isn’t anything regretful.

He’s been slacking off with his reports though, preparing materials to take back, and he works on finishing them up that morning before heading to the court to fulfill his duties there. It’s his haste, probably, that leads to another mistake that he commits in front of prince Junmyeon, which only makes it twice as bad. One slipup can be an honest accident, but twice? That is just unacceptable. 

They’re walking in the gardens today, strolling forward slowly, undisturbed. They’ve been making idle small talk- Junmyeon recently finished reading something, and he wanted to discuss it with Chanyeol like he often does. It isn’t until there’s a lull in the conversation that Junmyeon turns to him and points at his chest. 

“What is that strange decoration you wear, hyungnim?”

His question is so innocent, so childlike in its curiosity, and Chanyeol glances down at himself to see. To his utmost horror, he spots a ballpoint pen that he’s attached to the lapel of his shirt. He was using it this morning to write, finding the use of actual ink and brush just entirely too cumbersome, and apparently thoughtlessly placed it there as he finished and never thought of leaving it in his room. He’s lucky that he came to saw prince Junmyeon first thing in the morning, not meeting anyone else in the way- he can’t even think what might have happened had someone else seen it. 

Although even prince Junmyeon seeing it is decidedly not good. Not good at all. 

He can’t simply snatch it away and try to hide it, either. Doing his best to collect himself, he detaches it from his clothes, and holds it on the palm of his hand for Junmyeon to see. “Ah… It is a strange trinket I required from an odd vendor,” he offers as the vaguest explanation possible. Junmyeon nods thoughtfully and leans in closer to see, but doesn’t pick it up or try to touch it, thank god. Maybe the blue color of it would allow it to pass off as jade, or some other precious stone. “It was a curious thing, so I picked it up. I do not think it is very pleasing on the eye, so I probably will just leave it somewhere as an oddity I can show friends and family when they come over.”

Junmyeon nods again, and stands up straight once more, hands held behind his back. “It’s curious, indeed,” he comments, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It must be from somewhere overseas.”

“It must be,” Chanyeol agrees, and hurries to hide the pen out of sight. How is he this careless? These things cannot keep happening to him like this. It could put the whole mission in danger. 

But the prince lets it go in favor of another topic. “Hyungnim isn’t married?” he asks, as they continue their morning stroll. “I thought you would have been- but you didn’t speak of your wife. Men would usually by such pretty things for their wife…”

In another time, Chanyeol will tell this as a joke between the other agents. That a man of the 18th century thought that a ballpoint pen is something man should by for his wife, for it’s so pretty. But now, he’ll take any opportunity to change the topic. 

“Ah… I was considering marriage, but then my father’s death… I had to put such things aside.” What a convenient excuse the three-year-long mourning period really is. “And before then, I was devoted to my studies, and serving in the court. I regret it now, for it would have been good for my father to see our family line continued in a son of my own, but I was thoughtless.”

Even in his private life, Chanyeol is as single as can be. It’s partially a choice and partially just the nature of his job; he’s away so much, he doesn’t know how he could make a relationship work. He’s seen the struggle Kyungsoo and Baekhyun go through, and it isn’t exactly encouraging. 

Junmyeon places his small hand on his arm, squeezes it gently, and just leaves it there. Not only is the young prince starved for good conversation and companionship, but also touch, it appears. Chanyeol’s heart sometimes really, really aches for the young man. 

“You are certainly very eligible, as far as unmarried men go,” Junmyeon says, his voice light but something in his eyes turns a bit darker as he says that. “I’m sure a lot of families would gladly agree to let you marry their daughter, and would be actually quite proud of it. As far as I know, your family is a pure line of yangban, hyungnim. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite handsome.”

Chanyeol can’t help but laugh, loud and boisterous. “Why, thank you, your highness,” he says, and bumps shoulders with Junmyeon lightly who now also bursts into giggles. “I’m quite honored that you think I’m good looking. I will be sure to tell that to any family looking to marry their daughter to me.”

Junmyeon continues to laugh, until his coughs take over again. Chanyeol just waits it out, like he’s learnt to do; Junmyeon just gets uncomfortable if he fusses too much. 

“You’re free to announce it to all of the kingdom that I find you handsome,” he finally says, once he’s caught his breathe. “For I am not at all embarrassed to own up to that. Besides, anyone with eyes will be sure to agree with me.”

And so, the ballpoint pen is forgotten, although the warmth of Junmyeon’s touch lingers with him for a long time afterwards.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Chanyeol and prince Junmyeon are meeting almost every day by now. Even if they don’t make an agreement to meet, prince Junmyeon is sure to send him a note to ask for his company at some point of the day. Chanyeol knows that it has caught the attention of some, but no one seems to think badly of him for it; it’s probably the common knowledge that Junmyeon will never be a ruler that has kept jealousy from emerging between him and his fellow government officials. If Junmyeon was someone more powerful, someone would sure try to torpedo his close bond with the prince. 

He would be more careful, but he only has limited time. For as long as no one is plotting his political assassination, he should be alright. 

Chanyeol would think it odd, how quickly he’s grown so close to prince Junmyeon already. They definitely share a bond of friendship and trust, a sincere connection formed through the brilliance of their intelligence. They are both equally clever, and find the conversations they have enriching for the soul. It’s a rare kind of joy, to have met someone so bright- but not only is Junmyeon smart, but he is also lonely, and emotionally neglected. 

He has a hard time letting Chanyeol leave, and it’s growing more evident by the day. At any sign of Chanyeol getting ready to leave, he will come up with another topic to talk about or as Chanyeol about, to keep him with him just a little while longer. It’s both endearing and heartbreaking for Chanyeol, who cannot possibly give Junmyeon as much time and attention as he’d want. Even though they still rarely talk about truly personal matters, Junmyeon seems to thrive off of the attention and just the company of another. 

“It’s just nice to forget, sometimes. That there’s all this chaos and turmoil just behind that wall, and just sit here with hyungnim and talk about whatever,” Junmyeon confesses to him once, further explaining the situation to Chanyeol. Their chats are Junmyeon’s only reprieve from solitude, but also stress and anxiety he feels because of his brother and his father, the crown prince and the king. 

It makes sense why Junmyeon would feel attached to him, but what makes less sense is how Chanyeol is also attached to Junmyeon. So much so, that he even forgets that he should be actually doing his job, and investigating, pushing for more information, and instead he gets lost in the endless conversation, poetry, and quiet geomungo melodies. 

He’s brought back to focus one day when upon entering Junmyeon’s quarters, he can hear children’s voices from even far away. Considering it peculiar, he hurries to get closer, walking on light feet in case he ought to turn away and head back- if it’s someone from the core royal family itself, he shouldn’t be seen with Junmyeon like this.

But when he rounds the corner, he only sees Junmyeon, seated in his tea room with the panels opened into the gardens, with three children playing around him, all four of them laughing so brightly as they do. All three of the children are quite young, one boy and two girls, and Chanyeol has to pause and think for a moment- who are they, exactly? Judging by their clothes, they too belong to the royalty… And as soon as that clicks, he realizes the identity of the children. 

He approaches the scene carefully, smiling tentatively. He doesn’t know if he’s quite welcome, but he’s curious now. The boy spots him first, and points a finger at him while tugging on Junmyeon’s sleeve.

“Uncle, who is that?”

Prince Junmyeon looks up, mouth open, before his expression melts into a gorgeous smile. “Ah, hyungnim! Come here, come here- these are just my nephew and nieces. They came to visit their uncle today. Join us.”

That confirms it. The kids are no one else but the king to be, and his sisters. This is the child that will take the throne once the current mad crown prince has been done away with. Obviously, he’s still very young, only seven years of age, and won’t rise to the throne for some time, but that is his fate nonetheless. Chanyeol knows, because he has done his research. No pictures of king Jeongjo exist from his formative years, as portraits were only done of adults usually, but it has to be him. To his knowledge, no other royal children are living in the palace. 

Chanyeol walks up to the small group, and bows down in front of the children. After all, he’s greeting the future ruler of Joseon and his sisters, so he must be respectful. Prince Junmyeon seems horribly amused by this, as they’ve dropped such formalities a long while ago. “Prince Jeongjo, princesses, it is my honor,” he says as a way of greeting, and as expected, the children don’t seem at all confused by this. They’re used to this kind of treatment, despite their young age. 

“This is uncle’s friend,” Junmyeon explains even as he gestures for Chanyeol to sit down. “He talks about boring adult thing with uncle, that is why he came. But uncles won’t bore you now, won’t we? It wouldn’t be quite nice of us.” 

“Don’t mind me, just keep playing,” Chanyeol urges them, flashing Junmyeon an assuring smile. He would like to ask the small prince some questions, but he doubts that the seven-year-old could give him any very coherent answers. He isn’t a reliable source of information on his own father, he doesn’t think. 

So instead, he watches. He watches the children interact with each other and with Junmyeon, tries to take mental notes of everything he can. He will write this all down in his reports later, an assessment of the next king of the dynasty and what he can say about his personality based on this. It could be of some value, this rare glimpse into his childhood.

Sweet treats are brought out after some time passes, the children having tired themselves out with Junmyeon. Junmyeon seems quite winded, his face otherwise pale but his cheeks burning an ill said of red, and he can barely contain his coughs even if it does nothing to hinder his joy. He clearly enjoys the company of the small children, talking animatedly with them, and it’s also obvious how much the young ones adore him in return. Chanyeol still refrains from meddling too much, just enjoys the snacks quietly and sips on the surprisingly sweet tea- it is exactly the kind of tea he’s used to drinking outside of Junmyeon’s company, which is why it’s startling to have it here when Junmyeon usually opts for such bitter, medicinal kinds. But who is he to complain about delicious food and drink?

Eventually, two women come to collect the children and take them away. “Prince Jeongjo has lessons,” Junmyeon explains as they watch the children walk away. “The king is working very hard in training him and making sure he will be a fit ruler one day… unlike my brother. I suppose the king worries that Jeongjo might turn out like Jangheon hyungnim. We can’t be sure if… if what Jangheon hyungnim has was passed down to the next generation.”

Chanyeol could offer comfort to him. He could say that as far as records go, it looks like the only thing king Jeongjo will suffer from is too much filial piety. He will later build a whole walled city in Suwon for the memory of his father, and move his grave there as well from the mountainside. He will truly honor the memory of his disgraced father like a good Neo-Confucian son should. 

But he cannot say that, and he knows it. 

It’s not always the blatant lies that he tells that make him so guilty, but also the things that go unspoken, that have to remain unsaid.

“He seems like a very bright child,” he says instead, and dares to run a hand down Junmyeon’s back to try to calm him. “He speaks well, acts well, and I have heard that his teachers are very pleased with him. All the officials are very smitten by that fact.”

Junmyeon sighs, and then nods his head. “I suppose you’re right, hyungnim,” he agrees with another sigh. “I just… I sometimes look at him, and see my brother Jangheon in him. It makes me want to protect him, make sure nothing ever happens to him. But I suppose the most I can do is remain by his side for as long as I can, to teach him and to guide him as best as I know how.” 

Prince Junmyeon is so kind, so soft, and it pains Chanyeol so very much to watch him shoulder all of this on his own. Even if Junmyeon has opened up to him very quickly, he doesn’t blame him for it. In the palace, he doesn’t have many people to talk to, people he could trust, and he knows that his presence must be a huge relief to the young man. Again, his guilt troubles him, because he will be gone in just a few short months, but perhaps Junmyeon’s troubles will lessen after his brother’s passing.

***

May weather gets really warm soon, entailing the hot summer that is to follow. It makes the traditional clothes feel so uncomfortable on his skin, the weight of them bothersome, and focusing on the mundane work he has to complete as an official takes its toll on him. Chanyeol can only loathe the thought of June, July, August, for those will be even more miserable than this. 

He reminds himself of Minseok’s suffering in the prehistoric times, though, and shoulders on. 

His meetings with prince Junmyeon carry on. It’s daily now that they make time to meet, whether it’s in the morning before Chanyeol begins his work, for lunch in the middle of the day, or after Chanyeol has completed his duties for the day. They talk politics less and less as the days go by, something that Chanyeol takes notice of, and their conversations concern poetry and literature a lot more frequently, but there is now more room for more personal topics as well. 

Prince Junmyeon seems more tired nowadays, the circles around his eyes stark against his otherwise pale skin. “I’m not sleeping well,” he confesses to Chanyeol. “I don’t know… I lay my head down on my pillow, try to allow myself to drift to sleep, but it doesn’t come. Or I wake up in the middle of the night…” He coughs into the cupped palm of his hand, the harsh hacking cough shaking him. “I don’t understand. Is it because I’m too idle? Should I be doing more, to properly exhaust myself?”

Chanyeol would like to point out that the wooden pillows everyone uses in this day and age could be a reason why he’s sleeping poorly, but it would be a joke that Junmyeon would not understand. He weighs his options, the kind of advice that is expected of him. 

“Have you perhaps… considered the company of women? Or a wife? I hear that those kinds of activities can allow a man to sleep more peacefully.” He can’t help the cheeky smile. He doesn’t usually bully Junmyeon over his potential affections for ladies, but it’s fun to get to do so every once in a while. 

Junmyeon punches his shoulder, although there’s hardly any strength behind the blow. “Hyungnim should know that I have little interest in such matters,” Junmyeon says, wrinkling his nose as he lifts his chin up defiantly. He chances a glance at Chanyeol, as if measuring his next words before deciding to plunge into it. “In fact… I would rather enjoy the company of men, instead.”

Chanyeol doesn’t have it in him to act surprised. It’s a topic much too common in the present day for him to feel any type of way towards it, especially when he himself is quite open to dating men. But he has also lived through all the millennia of Korean history, has seen it with his own eyes- that homosexuality has existed and flourished regardless of the kingdoms, dynasties, rulers, even Confucianism itself. He has been a hwarang soldier before, the boy soldiers famous for their beauty and youth; he has travelled with the namsadang, the male circus and theater troupe travelling from town to town, village to village, and seen them sell their bodies for a coin once the dancing and other demonstrations of acrobatic skill had ended. And he knows that Junmyeon is not the first of the royalty to be this way, even if it can be met with harsh penalties. 

He knows that any of the varied forms of sexuality have long since existed in Korea, even in the golden times of the past, so why should he be so surprised by Junmyeon’s confession?

“Well, you could consider that, then,” he says with a slight smile. “I’m sure that it has the same effect on your rest. I do not think that the female anatomy holds some secret to peaceful slumber that the male form would lack- if you understand what I mean.”

How comfortable it is, to talk freely like this, the formalities between them reduced to close to nothing. Junmyeon still refers to him as hyungnim but he would probably do so even if they were real brothers, but at least Chanyeol doesn’t have to call him his highness anymore. They’ve really grown so close, something Chanyeol can’t help but feel proud of.

He’s so happy, truth be told- even though he tries to remind himself that no such warm feelings are allowed, when he knows his stay here is only temporary. He’s gone through the difficulties of saying goodbye so many times in the past, he should know better; yet there is something about Junmyeon that makes it impossible to resist it, the natural chemistry of their brilliant minds and the pleasant spark of their conversation. 

Junmyeon laughs, bright and loud, and reaches out a hand to squeeze Chanyeol’s arm. “You must be right,” he agrees, his eyes sparkling. “Has hyungnim adventured into that territory in the past? That is- does hyungnim have personal experience with the male company, male company similar to that of women’s? I’m curious.”

For once, Chanyeol may be honest. 

“Yes,” he says, granting Junmyeon a smile of his own. “Yes, I do. I do not prefer men over women, or the other way around- they’re all lovely. But yes. I’ve experienced it, and enjoyed it.”

There’s a dark look to Junmyeon’s eyes, and he squeezes Chanyeol’s arm tighter, leans in closer. “Men are so much more pleasant because there is no worry of pregnancy… no such complications. Hyungnim understands how dreadful that can be. And on top of that…” His cheeks are bright red, and he pulls away, coughs into his sleeve. “Never mind.”

Chanyeol leans over to playfully nudge him on the shoulder. “No, you have to tell me now, since you already teased me with it,” he insists. “You can’t just begin to tell me something, and then deny me the rest of it. On top of that what? Just tell me. You know you can trust me.”

Junmyeon regards him for a moment, his lips pursed, before he finally relents and leans back into Chanyeol again. “On top of that, I find that I enjoy… the position of a woman more, than that of a man. I know that it’s weird, perhaps my gi is off balance, I don’t know…” Now, his ears are also red as well as his cheeks, and oh gosh. He’s so cute when he’s truly flustered and embarrassed.

Frankly, there is no text book answer to this. What would be the appropriate reaction to a prince of the 18th century confessing to him that he likes to bottom when he’s with a male partner? As thoroughly as he has been trained, this was not one of the topics covered in any of the lectures. 

But then again, it is only Junmyeon. Whatever way he responds, it doesn’t really matter. Enforcing a positive self-image and sexual identity in one person can’t do much damage. 

“I do not think it odd. We all have preferences, do we not? We like different foods, different clothes, different pastimes… So why not different, say, positions, when with an intimate partner. For as long as you’re using lube.”

And as always, his slip up does not go unnoticed. The world is not that merciful on him. 

Junmyeon’s eyebrows are furrowed as he regards Chanyeol with an odd look. “What is that, if I may ask? Something very, uh, common in Pyongyang perhaps? I must admit, I’m not very fluent in the local dialects.” 

Chanyeol really ought to get punched. Maybe this time he will tell Kyungsoo, just to make him to nag at him. These mistakes are ridiculous. 

“Ah, yes- I do believe it’s a word from the dialects that I learned. I’m too barbaric, am I not? What I mean is oils, of course. Use oils, to ease the passage, so as to not hurt yourself.” He laughs awkwardly, only barely holding onto his poker face. The fact that he is sitting here, pretending that lube is a word he learned from an ancient dialect of any kind… It’s simply too much.

When he goes back home, he confesses his mistake to Kyungsoo, who only laughs at him and warns him that such talk is going to lead into more awkward situations- who knows why the prince brought that up. That is something Chanyeol refuses to think of, however, and instead just dedicates all of his focus on carrying out his duties, as well as enjoying Junmyeon’s company. 

Junmyeon starts to teach him the geomungo, claiming that such balmy spring weather is the best season to enjoy the pleasure of refined music. Chanyeol would rather disagree, or at least just play janggu or any other drum in existence, yet the peaceful geomungo is all he is left with. But it does make the time pass like it’s flying by, their shared moments little pieces of heaven in between hard work that he has to complete in order to keep up the façade of a government official. 

It is an easy routine, of work and pleasure, of mind-numbingly boring debates with other officials and delightful discussion with Junmyeon, of monotone speeches at court meetings and beautiful melodies Junmyeon coaxes out of his instrument.

It is the most beautiful May he has ever seen, yet the more time passes, he starts to think that it isn’t the season that is so gorgeous and has his spirits so lifted. No, it isn’t that all, unless spring and early summer have both been formed into one breathtaking person. 

“You’re absolutely foolish, Park Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo scolds him one night. It’s already nearing the end of May, the weather only growing hotter by the day. “I hear how you speak of him, I see the look in your eyes when you tell me about what you did with him. Are you sure you still have this under control?”

And a part of him wishes that his partner didn’t know him so well. That he wasn’t so transparent, perhaps. But Chanyeol has always had one weakness, and that is how he carries his heart on his sleeve. It may not be obvious to those who don’t know him, but it’s plain as day to the people who’ve been friends with him for a long time.

“I’m just smitten with his intelligence,” he tries to defend himself. And it’s true, as far as he’s concerned. “I enjoy our conversations tremendously. I’m simply so bored, Kyungsoo. The court is boring me to death, and there’s nothing to be do. I’ve already confirmed that the man is indeed mad as a hatter, and that is fact. The only thing I can now hope to do would be to see him in person, which I doubt is going to happen. Other than that, all that is left is to wait for the rice chest to be brought out, or to hear whispers of someone planning his death. My hands are tied.”

They both know this to be true. Chanyeol can only play the waiting game; if there is such a thing as political conspiracy to kill the crown prince, then the best time to catch it is either right before or after the execution. Most likely the question is going to be, if the disturbances at the palace really took place that would lead to the death sentence of the crown prince. Again, Chanyeol can only judge that once they occur, or don’t occur. 

While he waits, it’s no one’s business how he spends his time, at least in his opinion.

“You just have to be careful,” Kyungsoo says seriously. “You know how complicated things can get, especially if there are feelings involved. I guess I just don’t understand what it is about him that has you so… out of it. I’ve never seen you like this, not even once.”

It is true, at least. Chanyeol has never, even once, been thrown off his game by any friendship he’s made whilst on a mission. But he wouldn’t say that he’s so distracted even now, no- he just doesn’t really have anything else to do.

“He’s my only source of inside information.” These are all facts. “I have to stick close to him, if I want to hear more. He’s the only one who can provide me a way in- if not literally, then at least figuratively. I have to use this time to get closer to him. He trusts me, and I have to nurture that trust so that when the time comes… he will tell me everything.”

But when he thinks of Junmyeon’s sincere smiles, his beautiful laughter, his delicate features… he almost feels guilty for using him as a tool like this. 

Almost regrets that he will have to leave back to the year 2017 once everything has been said and done with prince Sado.

***

And so, May turns into June. The weather only continues to get warmer, more stifling, the sun blazing down and making the unpaved roads and courtyards dusty. Chanyeol would bathe every day if he could, but he knows that most would find it kind of ridiculous- he’s not quite wealthy enough to be allowed to act that eccentric, but good god does he loathe the constant sweat dripping down his back underneath the heavy clothes. Sitting still in government meetings or hearings has never been this hard, and he’s constantly on the verge of nodding off.

The rumors have quieted down, for now. He hears of fits of rage that the crown prince goes into, he hears of minor altercations between him and the staff of the palace, as well as of arguments between him and the king, but none of it is very condemning, or urgent. There’s nothing new to it, and no one seems to respond to it with much concern. 

It is simply become so common place in the palace, that no one even finds entertainment in gossiping about it. 

Junmyeon speaks of his brother less as well. With the weather becoming so uncomfortably hot, Junmyeon requests to see him either early in the mornings, or late in the evenings. But instead of parting ways before dinner time, Junmyeon now insists that they dine together. 

“I get so lonely,” he confesses, his voice small, hand reaching out to hold Chanyeol’s. “It makes me feel so empty, to eat all by myself… It isn’t right, to not have company over dinner. Hyungnim, please eat with me.”

Chanyeol isn’t a monster- he can’t refuse. 

The maids and servants that tend to Junmyeon have long since gotten used to Chanyeol’s presence at all times, and don’t really care about him being present for the evening meal as well. They set up two sets of everything wordlessly at Junmyeon’s request, before leaving them alone as per Junmyeon’s orders. 

“I don’t feel comfortable with them hovering over me while I try to enjoy my food,” Junmyeon confesses, using his chopsticks to place food on Chanyeol’s plate. “It also makes me feel kind of bad. They must be hungry too, yet they’re waiting on me instead. It doesn’t seem fair.”

Time and time again, Junmyeon continues to prove how down to earth he is. Sure, he has his spoiled side- the side that expects to get what he wants, when he wants it, but the consideration he has for even his servants is something Chanyeol has hardly ever seen in royalty. 

Junmyeon is truly too good for this world. 

“Your heart is very wide and caring,” is what he says instead, causing Junmyeon to blush slightly almost instantly. Junmyeon shakes his head and sips some rice wine, before coughing into the crook of his elbow. The cough attacks have gotten longer, harsher, but Junmyeon still likes to act as though they’re not really happening. Chanyeol has gotten used to them as well, and doesn’t pay them that much heed. He waits in silence for Junmyeon to say something, while enjoying the delicious food.

Prince Junmyeon does eat like royalty should. The full selection of side dishes is only reserved for the king himself, but even the princes eat well. These are foods that Chanyeol has never seen, or has only heard of, but at least his lack of knowledge doesn’t reflect badly on him in this current situation. He’s a commoner, he isn’t supposed to be familiar with these dishes anyway.

Junmyeon puts another piece of something on his plate, and gestures for him to eat. “I care about hyungnim,” he says, kind of awkwardly, but it’s so endearing that Chanyeol can’t help but smile. Smile, and feel his heart grow warmer, softer for this young man. 

“Well, I’m most thankful,” he says, and raises his cup to toast with Junmyeon. “To us, and to our friendship.”

“To us,” Junmyeon repeats, and knocks back the entire drink. Chanyeol doesn’t even hesitate to refill his cup; it’s good etiquette. He’s older than Junmyeon, sure, but Junmyeon is a prince, and in Chanyeol’s book that just means they can both pour each other drinks.

Having an evening meal together isn’t a onetime occurrence. Junmyeon regularly suggests to him that he stay, or just makes excuses to keep him around until it’s dinner time. Chanyeol can tell that it’s what he’s trying to do, as his attempts at changing the topic if Chanyeol shows any signs of getting ready to leave are kind of obvious. But like everything else Junmyeon does, it’s simply endearing, and Chanyeol doesn’t have anything to complain about. 

He’s still just as enamored by their conversations as he was in the beginning. Sometimes he even forgets that Junmyeon is someone from the past, someone to be treated differently than he would his friends- a prince from the 18th century that Chanyeol won’t be seeing anymore after just a couple more months. It’s so easy, to fall into deep conversations with him, share their dreams and aspirations for the future, even if he has to lie and be quite vague sometimes, or just have playful debates about the things they’ve read or heard. 

Kyungsoo’s warnings might not have been groundless after all. 

Kyungsoo also starts to complain about it, not just warn him against it. “You’re never home anymore,” he huffs one night after Chanyeol comes back home, slightly tipsy and smiling all dopey. “You leave early in the morning and come home late at night like this. I don’t see your face at all anymore. What are you doing in the palace, around the clock like this? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Aw, do you miss my face?” Chanyeol drawls, and cups Kyungsoo’s cheek with one hand. It’s a wrong move, as Kyungsoo is quick to punch him in the shoulder for it, sending him stumbling to the side as he almost loses his balance. 

“Absolutely not, you prick,” Kyungsoo grumbles. “Go to bed, you drunkard. I’m not having this conversation with you right now.”

But Chanyeol can be stubborn, especially whilst drunk. He steps back up to Kyungsoo, and drapes an arm around him, leaning on him so heavily that he can’t just brush him off. “Agent Do misses me,” he murmurs, pressing his face as close to Kyungsoo as he can. Kyungsoo makes a valiant effort to dodge, but to no avail. Sometimes Chanyeol’s bigger size does come in handy. “How precious. I’ll hang out with you soon, yeah? We’ll go back home and hang out. I’ll even buy you lunch. Baekhyun can come too, if you wanna.”

Kyungsoo lets out a long-suffering sigh, and rubs his face while trying to dig his elbow into Chanyeol’s ribs. “You’re drunk, and this is ridiculous,” he declares. “Go to bed, you tall freak. Did the prince get you drunk like this? What are you drinking so heavily for?”

Chanyeol stands up, deciding that it would be too cruel to torment Kyungsoo any longer. Instead he saunters over to his bed, and plops down on the mattress spread out on the floor. He starts to take off his clothes clumsily, but Kyungsoo’s patience for state of intoxication has run thin. He begins to briskly undress Chanyeol for him, pulling clothes off his body with all the ease of a sober human being. 

“We drink and we have fun,” is what Chanyeol offers in the way of explanation. “That is all. We sit and drink.”

He can’t see Kyungsoo’s eyes, but he can still very well imagine how he must roll them to show his displeasure with that answer. “I warned you, Chanyeol. I warned you about doing things like this. What if your judgment completely fails you, when you’re drunk like this? Then what?” He finally gets Chanyeol mostly naked, and he pushes him down on the bed, not bothering to try to get the covers from underneath him. Chanyeol appreciates it, as he’s feeling quite flustered and uncomfortable already. He drapes an arm over his eyes, to block out the candle light as well as Kyungsoo’s harsh stare. 

“I won’t do anything stupid,” he slurs, shaking his head. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve been drunk before. Relax. I’m not some village idiot. I’m chosen for these things for a reason!”

“You are an idiot, and you bloody know it.” Kyungsoo doesn’t sound happy, as he moves around the room to blow out the candles. “I told you, this is not going to end well, but you refuse to listen. So typical of you. I will not run to your rescue, though, if you screw up. It’ll be on you, and you alone.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol huffs, and waves his hand impatiently. Kyungsoo’s nagging is getting on his nerves, even though he knows he means well. He doesn’t need a babysitter- it hurts his pride to be talked to in this manner, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Just leave me alone. I’ll see you in the morning when I can think straight.”

“If you can’t think straight, then what guarantee is there that you won’t do something fucking idiotic?” Kyungsoo sounds like he’s about had it, and he doesn’t linger in the room, marching off right after, his steps probably headed to his own sleeping quarters. But his words stick, at the back of Chanyeol’s mind, who can’t deny the truth in them try as he might. 

But he can still choose to ignore it, for Junmyeon’s company is far too pleasing for him to refuse it. 

And so, their late dinners become habit as well. There’s always plenty of food, and plenty of drinks to go around; Junmyeon seems to prefer alcohol similar to his tea, herbal and bitter, but Chanyeol quickly gets used to it. It isn’t like alcohol is meant to taste delightful when it’s this strong. 

With the alcohol, comes new freedom as well. It isn’t that they only move to more sensitive topics once they’re drunk, no- usually it’s only one glass in that they begin. It’s just the combination of the night darkening around them, the silence of the palace, the intimate feel of their private dinner, that allows for more sensitive topics to be discussed that they couldn’t speak of so openly in the daylight. It feels natural, and Junmyeon seems to yearn for his attention and for his company all the same even when it isn’t to share highly intelligent arguments with one another. 

“I envy you so much, hyungnim,” Junmyeon confesses to him on one such night. They’ve only shared a glass each, but it’s the soft darkness protecting them that makes room for their hearts to be revealed. “I envy you.”

“Why is that?” Chanyeol asks, and sets down his chopsticks. It would feel rude to have his mouth full when Junmyeon is telling him something that is clearly important to him.

“You have the whole world open and for your taking.” Junmyeon sounds wistful, and the smile he gives Chanyeol is thin, sad. How he smiles when he’s playing his geomungo, plucking out the saddest, slowest melodies. “You can go wherever you want, marry whoever you want, be whoever you want… You come here, to the palace, and enjoy its beauty for what it’s worth, and then go home and enjoy the joy of the free people of the city. Do whatever you wish. Beyond the palace walls, you can enjoy everything that Hanseong has to offer.”

A part of Chanyeol would say that the world of the yangban of the 18th century is quite limited. There’s really nowhere he can go outside of Joseon, as ties with both China and Japan are quite unpleasant at the moment, and the Joseon court regards everyone else to be barbarians. Hanseong is not exactly the living, breathing metropolis that Seoul of 2017 is, not to mention such things as the internet. But he understands why Junmyeon feels the way that he does. 

Again, he is reminded of what he thought of prince Junmyeon upon first meeting him. A bird in a cage, its wings clipped. Even if someone were to open the cage door for him, he wouldn’t know how to fly. He’s stuck here, and while his every need is taken care of and there is nothing of material worth he could ask for… he’s lonely, sad, and forever stuck, forever fated to a life he didn’t choose.

But this thought, what Junmyeon described, sparks an idea.

“What if I took you outside?” he asks, turning to Junmyeon with a broad grin. “What if we go outside, together? To see Hanseong, or to my humble house? I can’t give you my freedom to keep, but I can give you a taste- I can let you see what it’s like, out there. Have you ever been outside the palace walls?”

The look Junmyeon gives him is priceless, like a kid on Christmas but even better. “I’ve travelled before- but I’ve only seen things through the window of the palanquin.” He’s leaning closer, his eyes sparkling. “Could you take me, hyungnim? Could you get me out?”

Chanyeol loves adventure. It is why he’s in this profession in the first place. Smuggling Junmyeon out of the palace could end up quite poorly for him- but that just means he has to make sure they won’t be caught. He’s up for the challenge.

“I’ll take you.” He winks at the prince, a smirk playing about his lips. The more he thinks about it, the more excited he is, the feeling only amplified by how thrilled Junmyeon looks. There’s a dark blush on his face, an almost feverish look on his pale face, his eagerness palpable. “But we have to plan it carefully. We can’t simply walk out, you know that.”

But even this does nothing to tamper Junmyeon’s joy. “Oh, I can wait- I can wait. Just tell me what you need me to do, and I will. Oh, it will be so fantastic.”

If there’s anything to be said about Chanyeol, it’s that he’s a man of his word. 

Arranging for taking Junmyeon outside isn’t exactly simple, and it takes them almost two weeks to find the perfect opportunity. As it nears the end of June the rainy season arrives, and the rain makes sinister, or mischievous, plans so much easier to carry out. The heavy rain makes everyone turn their focus inside their homes, with the doors closed to the outside world, and those walking on the streets are simply in a hurry to get away. No one is going to take notice of something peculiar going on. 

Chanyeol has to arrange for clothing for Junmyeon, because his royal garments would be too recognizable. He takes an outfit from Kyungsoo, since they’re about the same height, and brings it to Junmyeon for him to keep ready for the right time. When his partner asks about the clothes, wondering where they disappeared to, Chanyeol blames it on the women who do their laundry. He knows without asking that Kyungsoo would just tell him not to do this, if he told him the truth. 

Junmyeon’s face is only known by the people in the palace, and not even by all of them. So the key issue is to get him in and out without anyone realizing that it is the prince, and to that Chanyeol has no simple answer. Him and Junmyeon weigh different ideas, amid their usual conversations, ranging from riding on horseback since it would be the last thing people would expect him to do, to disguising him as a woman. There is a strong case to be made for dressing Junmyeon as a woman, considering how women aren’t supposed to show their faces in public; the garments are thus very concealing, to the point that not even his face would be seen. No one would dare to demand to see his face either, since no proper woman would reveal their face to an unknown man outside the home. 

But there are risks with that as well. For Chanyeol to leave the palace with a strange lady, and for him to bring that lady back to the palace a day later would attract too much attention. People would start asking questions about the identity of that lady- is Chanyeol courting one of the ladies-in-waiting, or even one of the princesses? It has the makings of a scandal, and that is the last thing they want to happen. But at the same time, it looks like their most viable option, and they debate it back and forth, trying to figure out a way to make it work. 

But then, Junmyeon has a stroke of pure genius. 

“What if I hide in a trunk, and you take it home with you, saying that it’s documents, maps, or whatever, that I or some official wants you to read?” he suggests one night as they’re waiting for dinner time. “You lock it from the outside and keep the key to yourself, so no one else can open it. You only need to have the servants carry it out and into your carriage or palanquin, and then into your house when we get there. And then you return the trunk the next day, either saying that it’s empty and the documents are at your house for you to work on, or filled with books you thought I might enjoy.”

It’s such a fool proof plan, and it has very little risks associated with it. No one is going to ask him questions about boring paper work he needs to take home, and if he has the only key to it, not even any curious servant can take a look inside. It’s so obvious that Chanyeol feels a little bit dumb for not thinking of it earlier. 

“Do you have a chest or a trunk that big?” he asks, and Junmyeon springs up to his feet excitedly. 

“Indeed I do, hyungnim!” he exclaims, as he hurries over to his little office room, where Junmyeon usually works and reads. Chanyeol follows behind him, curious to see what Junmyeon has acquired. 

It’s not a massive chest by any means, so much so that Chanyeol can’t help but express his doubts upon seeing it there on the floor. But Junmyeon’s smile only grows wider. 

“I already tried if I can fit in, and I can! I fit in just fine. If we can poke some holes into it, then I won’t worry about suffocating either. I’ll place a blanket on the bottom of it, so I don’t get too many bruises. It’s perfect, hyungnim. So can we put the plan into action now?”

Chanyeol almost asks for a high-five, but catches himself on time. Instead, he promises Junmyeon to finally make this long-waited adventure happen.

They only have to wait a couple more days for a suitable day. Mostly it’s just about making sure no one will miss Junmyeon in the palace in the meanwhile; it wouldn’t do that someone came to look for him, and he wouldn’t be anywhere to be found. But once they have that taken care of, they’re all set, both itching to finally set the wheels in motion. 

Chanyeol comes to see Junmyeon as per usual, and they dine late, as they often do. Junmyeon has very little appetite as he’s simply too excited for this, and Chanyeol has to remind him time and time again not to drink too much, otherwise he might feel reckless and be tempted to make noises or move in the trunk while it’s being handled by the manservants. Junmyeon agrees with him with delightful giggles, whispering quiet apologies. He’s so giddy with excitement, his cheeks burning red. 

They have the dishes and leftovers taken away, Junmyeon telling the maids that he will go to bed and that he won’t be needing any more assistance today. “And tomorrow I will leave early to visit princess Hwawan, so I won’t be having my meals. I will dress by myself.” 

This is their plan to make sure no one misses him in the palace. The maids will never know that he didn’t go visit his half-sister, as the comings and goings of the royalty are handled by different servants altogether. This way, they won’t think to check on him nor will they start to wonder where he has disappeared to. Prince Junmyeon isn’t someone of high status, so him leaving the palace requires little preparation and even less attention be paid to it, so they won’t think anything of not hearing about it from others. It’s not completely fool proof, but it’s as close as they’re going to get. 

After the maids are gone, they sit around for a while longer, to wait for the staff to retreat into their own quarters to make sure no one will come in at the wrong moment. Junmyeon is finding it increasingly difficult to sit tight, and Chanyeol does his best to calm him down with an arm around his shoulders, talking to him in a low, steady voice to try and keep the conversation going. It’s important not only for Junmyeon, but to anyone who might be within earshot by an off-chance. Everything has to appear to be perfectly ordinary.

Finally, it is time for Junmyeon to get changed. He doesn’t even hesitate to begin to strip down in front of Chanyeol, who tries his best to not feel flustered about it. It is perfectly common to see your same sex friends in the nude, he tells himself, and tries to avert his eyes, but it’s too late. He has already seen the expanse of pale skin, the dips and curves highlighted by the dancing candle light, and it is an image that will be hard to forget.

Instead of commenting on it, he gathers Junmyeon’s clothes and folds them away while the prince gets changed into the attire Chanyeol brought him. It keeps him busy until Junmyeon is sufficiently dressed, adjusting the outfit with a look of wonder on his face.

“I’ve just never seen myself dressed like this,” Junmyeon confesses a bit sheepishly. “Like a commoner, that is. It feels strange- but also, good. But let us not waste any more time standing here. We must go.”

Together, they carry the trunk outside into the steady, soothing rain, and Junmyeon returns to arrange the room to appear as it would if he were to wake up and leave by himself. He blows out the candles while Chanyeol waits, and then hurries outside, closing the door behind him.

“Be careful now,” Chanyeol reminds him as he climbs into the chest. It is only now, watching Junmyeon get inside the thing, that he is reminded of the wicked parallels this situation holds to how the crown prince will be executed in just a few weeks. It makes his blood run cold for a moment, and something about it feels ominous almost- but he knows that he cannot tell Junmyeon now that this is not a good idea. They have to follow through.

Junmyeon curls up small at the bottom of the chest, knees to his chest, and nods small to Chanyeol. “Close it, hurry. I will see you again at your house, hyungnim.” He coughs into the cupped palm of his hand and goddamn it- why didn’t Chanyeol even once think about the prince’s persistent cough? But again, it is too late. 

“Just remain silent, and I will take care of the rest,” he says, nonetheless, and closes the lid on the chest before locking it, and pocketing the key. 

Chanyeol hurries out to go find his servants, and commands them to follow him back to the prince’s quarters to carry his trunk for him. The servants are all groggy and grumpy, having waited for him all this time, and don’t handle the chest that delicately when they pick it up with slight grunts. Chanyeol has half a mind to snap at them for handling his possessions in such a manner, but he bites his tongue and just prays that Junmyeon will be alright. 

He gets into his palanquin and although it is a tight fit, the chest is squeezed inside together with him to avoid it getting wet in the rain. The servants pick up the vehicle and briskly head out, obviously fed up with their lord who keeps staying out late like this. Chanyeol will have to consider a small raise for them, because he does feel bad for them at moments like these. He’ll discuss it with Kyungsoo, who is the one in charge of their budget for this mission. 

He’d ask how Junmyeon is doing, but he knows that his voice can be heard loud and clear outside the palanquin, and so he bites his tongue. It’s hard, to resist the urge to make sure the prince is alright, as he feels quite protective of him, but he knows that it’s for the best. He wouldn’t worry so much if it was Kyungsoo, or any of his agent friends who he knows are all trained to withstand even the most terrible conditions… but it is Junmyeon, the small prince, whose hardships in life are only mental, and never physical, so Chanyeol can’t help but feel slightly at unease. 

The trip seems to take forever, but eventually he can hear the gates to his estate being opened, and he knows they’ve finally arrived home. He fidgets on his seat impatiently, waiting for the servants to cross the last stretch to the doorstep of his private quarters, and bolts out of the palanquin as soon as it comes to a stop. “Bring the trunk in, hurry!” he commands, before marching inside.

His servants put the trunk down with a heavy thud, and Chanyeol winces slightly, worried for the wellbeing of the floorboards as well as Junmyeon’s. He ushers the men out and hurries to lock the doors after them, going around the room to check all windows and doors to ensure that no one can walk in, but before he can get to Junmyeon, there’s a slight knock on the door from outside. 

“Let me in, now that you’ve finally come home,” Kyungsoo calls out to him, and Chanyeol knows that he can’t keep him outside. He knew that the moment would come when he would have to reveal this to Kyungsoo, and the moment might as well be now. So, he opens the door for him and motions for him to come in, before locking it once more. 

“I wasn’t planning on discussing anything that private, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kyungsoo comments, watching Chanyeol hurry over to the trunk in the middle of the room. “What’s that? Did you take work home?”

And it is now that Chanyeol realizes that all this time, Kyungsoo has been speaking to him in modern Korean. He hushes Kyungsoo with an angry hiss, bringing his finger to his lips. “Keep quiet for a moment, will you?” he says in the appropriate language, before opening the lock and the latch on the chest. “We have company.”

With that, he lifts up the top of the chest, and Junmyeon springs out like a children’s toy, his eyes wide and looking tentatively around the room. “Who is that, hyungnim?” he demands to know, nodding his head towards Kyungsoo who is staring at him with an equal look of surprise on his face. “What is the strange tongue he speaks?”

Kyungsoo, who is usually almost just as witty with his tongue as Baekhyun is, can’t seem to get a single word to come out of his mouth. Chanyeol tries to smile reassuringly at them both, while helping Junmyeon step out of the trunk to make the situation a bit less comical than it is. “He is my friend and my servant that I brought from Pyongyang. Forgive him, he speaks in strange words sometimes. Don’t you, my friend?”

Kyungsoo is still regarding the both of them quite warily, eyes darting back and forth between Chanyeol and Junmyeon. “Who is this, and why is he wearing my clothes?” he asks, finally, although at least he now changes to the era appropriate language. 

“I’m prince Junmyeon of Joseon!” Junmyeon declares before Chanyeol can stop him, and he hurries to shush him, hissing at him to keep his voice down. “My servants have ears even at night!” he scolds the young prince, who slaps his hand over his mouth, looking up at him with wide eyes once more. “I’m so sorry hyungnim, so sorry-”

“Why is there a prince in the house?” Kyungsoo sounds so done, just so fed up. Chanyeol knows that he’s going to get the real scolding later, but he appreciates that Kyungsoo is holding it together for now. “Just why?”

“Because we wanted to go on a small adventure,” Chanyeol explains, trying to keep his tone light. “Don’t worry, I will return him to the palace tomorrow the same way that he got out of it. No one needs to find out, if you don’t tell anybody. You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

“Please don’t give our secret away, please! I will be good, I will be so good, I won’t be any trouble at all! I will even pay you with coin for letting me wear your clothes!” Junmyeon clasps his hands together over his chest, putting on his best puppy eyes. He’s quite the adorable sight, really, small and dainty, pleading with that gentle voice. And not even Kyungsoo is made of stone.

“It’s too late to do anything about it now, isn’t it,” Kyungsoo grumbles, as he rubs at his temple. “Just go to sleep, both of you, will you? It’s late, and I don’t want to deal with this. If you will excuse me, your highness.” He bows, and then walks out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him a lot more harshly than needed. 

“You didn’t tell him I was going to be here?” Junmyeon asks him, pouting. “I’m so sorry to have troubled him…”

“No, no. I knew it would be for the best to only tell him like this, otherwise he would have tried to stop me.” Chanyeol isn’t so easily deterred. Facing Kyungsoo’s wrath was always the price he would have to pay for this bit of fun. “But he is right. We should go to sleep. It’s already late, and we want to wake up early tomorrow to make most of our day.”

There is extra bedding in his bedroom, so Chanyeol spreads those out on the floor to make another bed next to his own. It’s not as lush and comfortable though, and so he insists that Junmyeon take the real bed and he sleep in the makeshift one. Junmyeon tries to resist, weakly so, but he’s obviously getting sleepy now that the thrill of their escape is wearing off, and so he can’t keep arguing about it for long. So they strip down from their outer layers and lay down, side by side, in the darkness, the soft sounds of rain surrounding them and making everything even cozier. 

It is right there, watching Junmyeon slowly fall asleep, only the occasional cough stirring his rest, that Chanyeol realizes how close they’ve become over these short months. To think that he’s doing this for him, essentially putting his whole mission at risk… It’s a lot. It’s foolish, but it feels worth it. Even if he can’t give Junmyeon much, he can give him this taste of freedom, these moments of companionship. Even if it can’t be forever. 

It’s just Junmyeon’s charm. He’s so open, so endlessly giving, so good and kind. It would simply be impossible not to like him, not to care about him, and Chanyeol understands the limitations of time- everything has to happen fast, if they want it to happen at all. 

Junmyeon wakes him up early the next day, rising even before the sun. He’s bursting with energy, his cheeks burning bright and his eyes full of life, his hands warm on Chanyeol’s body as he shakes him awake. “Hyungnim! You must wake, we must hurry. We don’t have even a moment to waste, there’s so much to see!”

On a whim, Chanyeol grabs Junmyeon and pulls him down, wrestles him under him with soft grunts, and it is only mid motion that he realizes that he might have gone too far. “Your energy is simply too much,” he protests, trying to maintain a playful tone to play it up as a joke. “Go back to sleep.”

To his relief, Junmyeon rewards his jest with loud giggles as he squirms away, dressed only in the white shirt and underpants that he went to sleep in. “Hyungnim is much too mean,” he complains as he sits up on the floor, a few feet away from Chanyeol to make sure he can’t grab him again. His black hair is a mess, running down his neck and shoulder, having been freed from the topknot for more comfortable rest. He looks slightly winded from their small tousle, but he’s smiling so brightly, and truly, there’s something so beautiful about this. The young prince is usually so composed, but here he is, his hair and clothes a total mess, yet he looks more captivating than ever before. 

Chanyeol forces himself to snap out of such thoughts, and gets up from the bed. “My apologies,” he says, and bows with great flourish to elicit more giggles from Junmyeon. “But you are right. We must get up. Let us get dressed, and then I shall call for breakfast. Now, do not talk with the maids if you can avoid it- you sound too much like a noble. I will tell them you’re someone who rode in to see me from Pyongyang, a relative or something, but they will not dare ask any questions.”

Chanyeol lights up some candles and they get dressed quickly, before Chanyeol takes them to the bigger room where he usually enjoys his meals. He rings a small bell to catch the attention of any servants nearby; it’s a bit earlier than when he usually has his breakfast, but he knows that someone must be awake. Junmyeon is looking around the room curiously, eyes wide once more as he takes it all in. Chanyeol can’t help but tease him. 

“Is it to your liking, your highness?” he asks as they sit opposite from each other, legs crossed. He reaches for his long pipe to stuff it with tobacco, sure in his movements even in the twilight of the early morning. Smoking is bad, he knows, but it’s one of the few joys he can have whilst back in the old days. It doesn’t quite compare to having a cup of hot coffee in the morning, but it’s something. 

“It pleases me,” Junmyeon plays along with a playfully snobby voice before his bubbliness shines through in his boyish smile. “I’ve just, I’ve never been to a home of someone that isn’t royalty. It isn’t so different, but… even so. But it’s very beautiful. Hyungnim has a very beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” Chanyeol replies, before the doors to the room are opened as a servant brings in plates and food. The servant apologizes for the simplicity of the meal since they weren’t yet prepared for the master of the house to be awake, but Chanyeol brushes him off kindly. “It is alright. Me and my cousin don’t mind a simple meal for our breakfast. Just give us what you have.”

Rice, seaweed soup, dried fish, various side dishes, as well as leftovers from the meal of night before are brought out for them, and Junmyeon can’t hide his curiosity, looking at it all. The royal family gets served very special food, and this is quite likely his first encounter with food such as this. 

They eat quickly, at Chanyeol’s urging. “So we can leave the house before my friend wakes up,” he laughs. “Because he is only going to scold me more if he sees me, and I do not want that.”

Junmyeon juts out his bottom lip, but he fails to look sad or even guilty. “Hyungnim’s friend cares about you, that is all,” he says. “That is very admirable, I think. Loyalty should always come first.”

“Well, I am loyal to you.” Chanyeol’s own words catch even him off guard, but he tries to play it off. “But nonetheless, we do not have a single moment to waste. Eat up, and then let’s head out.”

For the time being, the rain has ceased, and the skies seem clear. So, to allow Junmyeon to see as much of the town as possible, they decide to ride out on horseback. Junmyeon is not terribly steady on a horse, but he can manage it well enough. They ride out of the house side by side, into the city of Hanseong, slowly waking up from its slumber. 

Chanyeol takes them on a tour of the places he thinks Junmyeon would find interesting. The big market close by, with vendors from all over the country gathered to sell their goods, opening up their stalls for another market day. Technically, trade is supposed to be seen as something evil and to be discouraged in the Neo-Confucian world view, but by the 18th century the reality has caught up even with the Joseon dynasty. Even if the court might not approve of this, it has become too widespread to do anything about. 

It’s a vibrant world, even as it’s still gearing up. Junmyeon’s eyes are glued on everything around him as he tries to take it in, asking questions about this and that under his breath. It’s quite precious to see, his burning curiosity and genuine excitement over something so ordinary. At least the wide rim of his hat helps hide his facial expressions, because his bewilderment at something like this could probably raise questions with those who like to stick their noses in other people’s business. 

They ride their horses to the river, first to the Cheonggyecheon stream that flows close by. In present day Seoul, it’s been walled and made into a footpath for people to enjoy, surrounded by high-rise buildings that house the headquarters of all major corporations in South Korea, before it comes to the Gwanghwamun square- the square built right in front of the royal palace. But going that close to the palace now would not be wise, and so Chanyeol purposefully redirects their path again, crossing the stream over a bridge to get to its southern bank. 

They follow along the stream, then, talking about the things that Junmyeon finds interesting- the way the commoners of the city dress, how they live, how they earn a living, everything under the sun. “I’ve never even realized that all this was out here,” he says time and time again, like he can’t quite believe it. “I’ve never thought that all this… existed just a few li from the palace. What a different world it is. Yet this… this is the reality, and the palace is the dream. The paradise.”

The cage, Chanyeol would prefer to call it, but he bites his tongue. 

Eventually, they make it to Han river, where the Cheonggyecheon runs into the main body of water. It’s lined with houses, boats, life; in present day Seoul, it is a modern oasis for people seeking to escape the metropolis, but in 1762, the river is a source of livelihood, and the most important route into the capital. People are fishing, people are sailing in with fish they caught at the sea, there are traders coming in and sailing away from Hanseong. There are houses, big and small, built everywhere, yet it is nowhere near as populated as the area around the palace is. This already feels more rural, yet to Junmyeon, it is even more exotic than the things they have seen before. 

“It runs into the sea a some li that way,” Chanyeol comments, gesturing with his hand to the west. “We cannot see it from here, but it is there somewhere.”

Junmyeon nods thoughtfully, coughing into a handkerchief. “I’ve seen the Yellow Sea, when we visited Ganghwa island with the royal family,” he replies. “And I know what lies on the other side… China, its massive cities. I would love to sail across it, one day.” 

“You did mention that.” They’ve spoken of Junmyeon’s desire to travel quite often. Chanyeol wishes he could share the things he has seen with him, because he has travelled, not just in Asia but all over the world. In 1762, Joseon is really quite closed off from the world, and while it has already encountered even some people from the west, there isn’t much knowledge of such things yet. He knows that he could entertain Junmyeon for hours just with tales of people who look nothing like them, live nothing like them, not to mention the nature they’re surrounded by… Not to mention all the wonders of the modern world. 

But he has to keep his silence.

“I know.” Junmyeon sighs quietly, folding away his handkerchief carefully. “I speak of it too much. I just, I just have this wish…”

“Wanderlust.” Chanyeol nods, and reaches over to squeeze Junmyeon’s shoulder. “I understand it. You feel restless, being still, and curious about the things that are just out of reach. I know.”

They sit in silence, both of them, their horses hanging their heads down as they wait for them to give them any direction. The clouds are approaching once more, foreboding rain for the afternoon. Torrential downpour would be unpleasant to be caught in, so Chanyeol wants to head back towards his home, yet he feels reluctant to turn back. Junmyeon is seeing this sight possibly for the last time, and he doesn’t want to rush him to go back. 

It’s Junmyeon who breaks the silence by turning towards Chanyeol with a saddened smile. “Hyungnim always understands me so well- I feel blessed, to have met someone like you. To have found a friend, to have found loyalty and understanding. It almost makes it alright that I will never be able to leave the palace and explore like I would like to.”

Chanyeol feels his heart sink. He will be gone so soon… How much pain will he cause Junmyeon, disappearing from his life? It is one thing for him to have stepped into this knowing how limited their time was, but to have fooled poor Junmyeon who had no choice, who knows no better? It feels cruel, the cruelest of all. 

But it is the choice he has made, and he doesn’t find it in himself to want to back out of it. 

They will just have to make these weeks count. 

Eventually, they head back, taking a slightly different route this time just so that Junmyeon can catch a glimpse of something new as they go along. They attract quite a bit of attention, two noble men on horseback riding through the city, but no one knows how any of the royal family looks like and that keeps them safe. They’re both quiet though, both deep in their own thoughts. Chanyeol doesn’t know what Junmyeon is thinking of exactly, but he himself is stuck repeating their earlier conversation in his head. How stuck and hopeless Junmyeon feels, how much he’s come to rely on Chanyeol and how guilty that makes him feel. Thinking long and hard about it will change nothing, he knows, yet the words don’t stop ringing in his head. 

At this time, restaurants are far and few between, so they ride back to Chanyeol’s home for lunch. This time, it’s set out properly for them, everything prepared nicely, as it should. Kyungsoo is there at the table, already waiting by the time they come back, having left the horses at the stables. Junmyeon bows to Kyungsoo respectfully, but shuffles closer to Chanyeol, his fingers gripping the wide sleeve of Chanyeol’s jacket tightly as though to seek comfort from him. 

Chanyeol has to admit, Kyungsoo’s stern expression is quite scary, but at the same time it is kind of amusing that the prince is so afraid of his partner. He sits down with Junmyeon still close to his side, trying hard to suppress his laughter. 

“Where did you go?” Kyungsoo demands to know, barely keeping his voice down so that the servants don’t realize something is wrong. “I woke up and you were nowhere to be seen. Where did you two go?”

“Just out and about,” Chanyeol responds, as he begins to serve bites of food on Junmyeon’s plate. “We took the horses and rode along the stream to the river, to look around a little bit. My cousin has never seen Hanseong before, so I wanted to give him a small tour.”

“Your cousin-” Kyungsoo grits his teeth. “I mean, I see.”

Junmyeon snorts, now also clearly amused, and that reaction is what spurs Chanyeol on. He’s all about delivering what the audience wants. “Ah, yes. I’m so sad that his visit is going to be so short, but we tried to make most of it. If it doesn’t rain too much, we might go out again after lunch. Would you like to join us this time?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t look pleased. “I think I would rather not,” he says. “So, when exactly is your cousin leaving again? Because I would like to talk to you, just the two of us.”

“Later tonight,” Chanyeol replies through a mouthful of food. “This visit is not long term at all, sadly.”

“How sad indeed.” Kyungsoo doesn’t sound like he feels that, and Junmyeon is having serious trouble holding back his giggles now, his cough coming in at a convenient time to stop him from laughing to Kyungsoo’s face. Kyungsoo gives him a look, lips pursed.

“Are you ill?” he asks, leaving out any honorifics. Junmyeon doesn’t seem bothered though, as he probably understands the situation. They do not want anyone to overhear anything strange, or anything that wasn’t meant for their ears. 

“Oh, it is nothing,” Junmyeon says quickly. “I just always have a bit of a cough. Weak lungs, you see.” 

It strikes Chanyeol as somewhat odd that it’s the first thing Kyungsoo noticed. He’s gotten so used to Junmyeon’s constant coughing that he pays it no mind at all, doesn’t even get worried unless he’s overcome by a serious coughing fit. “He has always been like that,” he pipes up, thinking that bit of information will back up Junmyeon’s own verdict. “It is not a flu, or the common cold.”

“I see.” Kyungsoo doesn’t sound so convinced, for some reason, but he doesn’t bring it up again, choosing instead to redirect the conversation elsewhere. By the end of the meal, Chanyeol has forgotten all about it already. 

It ends up raining again, and so they simply explore the inside of Chanyeol’s house instead of going out again. Chanyeol would have thought that his humble home wouldn’t be of much amusement to Junmyeon, but he’s proven wrong quite quickly. Junmyeon seems overjoyed to explore every little thing, and Chanyeol has to hold him back from walking into the kitchens or other servants’ quarters, as he would surely confuse the poor people completely with his behavior. 

It is quite pitiful, that he cannot keep Junmyeon here for longer. There’s something so precious about his genuine joy at discovering new things, and something so heartbreaking about sending him back to the palace. If the palace wasn’t in the state that it is, maybe Junmyeon could be happier as well… maybe he will find a peace of mind after his brother passes, after the violence and chaos calm down.

Chanyeol can only hope. 

They decide it’s best to take Junmyeon back during the hour when servants have their dinner, so it will be easy to pretend like Junmyeon returned from princess Hwawan’s home and the maids simply missed that because they weren’t in attendance. Junmyeon gets in the chest with a pouty look on his face, and Chanyeol truly feels like he’s doing something evil as he closes and locks the top of it.

But it isn’t his place to set the small bird free.

To his relief, their trip to the palace is a smooth one, and the servants carry the trunk into Junmyeon’s quarter with no fuss. Chanyeol orders for them to wait for him, and then lets Junmyeon out of the trunk, lifting him on the floor with hands underneath his armpits. 

“Hyungnim!” Junmyeon blushes slightly, gesturing wildly with his hands. “I didn’t know you are so strong. I could have gotten out on my own, you know.”

Ah. Self-control, he reminds himself. Do not keep giving into these whims to treat Junmyeon like this. 

“I wanted to show off, a little bit,” he says to brush it off, stepping back to retrieve an outfit for Junmyeon to change into. “Hurry, we must get you back into your own clothes before anyone sees.”

He assists Junmyeon in getting properly dressed once more, and with the royal garments on, he goes back to looking every bit like the prince that he is. The colors suit his pale skin so well, yet there is something so lonely about him, in these surroundings, all by himself. 

Chanyeol wishes he could stay, but he knows he has to go. Junmyeon probably wants some time by himself after spending the last 24 hours with Chanyeol.

“I will see you again tomorrow,” he tries to say as a goodbye, but before he can leave, Junmyeon grabs his hand with both of his own. He looks up to Chanyeol with a strange look in his eyes, an odd mixture of gratitude, sadness, yearning, and things Chanyeol cannot place, but he then lets go of Chanyeol’s hand as though the touch burned his skin. 

“I just wanted to say… thank you,” he murmurs. “Thank you so much. I wish I had… I wish I could properly express everything, but I’m afraid that my mouth cannot speak the things my pen can. But I just… wished you to know. That I will never forget this. I will treasure the memory of you and your company, and the things you showed me.”

Chanyeol can’t resist the temptation to hug him. He brings him into his arms, letting Junmyeon hide his face against his solid chest for a moment. “You’re welcome,” he replies in a low voice. “Trust me, it was special to me as well. Maybe we can do this again some time…”

Stupid, stupid Chanyeol. 

“Maybe. But you must hurry,” Junmyeon whispers, pulling away even if he seems reluctant to do so. “I will see you tomorrow, hyungnim. Sleep well.”

“You too.” And with that, Chanyeol heads out, a strange feeling blooming in his chest, lingering with him like a sweet perfume that he can’t quite place.


	3. Chapter 3

June comes to an end almost unexpectedly, and July is upon them all too fast. The weather remains the same for a couple weeks longer, the heavy rain pouring down relentlessly, yet Chanyeol knows that something has shifted. They are now counting down to the last moments of the crown prince’s life, and he can sense the nervous energy in the palace as well. 

Of course, he and Kyungsoo are the only ones who know what will happen, but he can tell a difference already. The servants look more upset whenever they come and go from the inner palace, and sometimes even shouts can be heard. The gossip is not kept secret anymore, not even among the scholars and officials that Chanyeol is part of. It has become obvious to all just how far into madness the crown prince has slipped into, and how hopeless the situation has become. None of them know what the answer to situation should be, yet they all agree some action should be taken, whether it would be to invite a doctor from China, or a shaman from the south to try to heal the ailing prince.

The change in atmosphere has its toll on prince Junmyeon as well. He looks thinner, more fragile somehow, and although he doesn’t speak a lot of his brother, he is quite visibly miserable. He gets livelier when he gets drawn in by their conversations, and he will still giggle and laugh with Chanyeol, joke around with him, but his smile is also quick to fade, his shoulders slumped forward when he used to always stand so tall. 

His coughs also get more persistent, more bothersome for him. Chanyeol is growing more worried, although there is nothing he can do. Junmyeon insists it’s nothing. 

“I just have to drink more tea,” he claims. “More of the medicine tea, and I’ll be well in no time. It’ll be alright.”

“The tea- the tea is medicine?” Chanyeol feels kind of stupid that it took him so long to realize what the herbal tea was for. There had to be a reason why Junmyeon was drinking such a bitter drink, especially when he otherwise favors sweet treats. Of course it was medicine, meant to help with his condition. 

“Yes.” Junmyeon laughs, and jostles him lightly. “Hyungnim, did you really not know? You really are a scholar through and through, so occupied by poetry and music that you do not realize such unnecessary details of the mortal world around you.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, and wraps his arm around Junmyeon’s slight shoulders, pulling him in against him. “How dare you tease me like that,” he tuts, but there’s no heat to his words. “But if you say so. I’ll make sure you drink two kettles in one sitting.”

“Sure thing.” Junmyeon lays his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder, and snuggles closer to get comfortable there like this is where he belongs. “It’s just the moisture in the air, it makes it hard for me to breathe. It will get easier, when the autumn comes and the weather gets colder again. Do not fret.”

But despite Junmyeon’s words, he does worry. Junmyeon looks so tired, so weighed down, and it hurts him to witness it. He wishes he could do more than just talk to him and try to take his thoughts away from the depressing matters, but his hands are tied. Only time will solve this situation for them, both with the crown prince and Junmyeon’s health condition. 

Days drag on, and Chanyeol is growing slightly restless. Normally he would be excited for his mission to come to an end, to reach conclusion and then return home, but now… now he feels as though he’s being pulled into two different directions. One is doing his duty as a special agent, and one is…one is simply Junmyeon. 

He feels it every time he manages to make Junmyeon smile. He feels it every time he watches Junmyeon plucking away at his delicate instrument, or every time they walk together in the gardens in the sunset. He feels it when Junmyeon presses against him for a moment of calm, a moment of tender affection, and he feels it each time they have to part for the night, or when they reunite the next day. 

He knows what it means, but calls it friendship regardless of it. 

The sense of urgency only makes him cling to this precious moments that much more, makes him open his heart that much wider for Junmyeon to see. He only has weeks before he must go, and he wants to give Junmyeon everything he can in that time… take with him as much as he can, everything Junmyeon is ready to offer. 

And as Junmyeon holds his hand while they sit, or as Junmyeon sometimes gently holds his cheek in the cupped palm of his hand, he wonders if Junmyeon might feel the same. 

One day at a time, the end comes nearer.

***

It’s just a day like any other. Chanyeol comes into court to fulfill his duties, examining documents brought to the officials from outside the capital to report on the southern areas of the kingdom, and he works diligently until noon. He’s only idly thinking of Junmyeon, thinking of maybe asking him to play geomungo again today, when his pleasant thoughts are interrupted by a whisper that travels through the room where other officials are working with him. 

He tries to pay it no mind, until he realizes with a start that today is an important day. That he should have remembered, should have known to expect this- yet he has been so occupied by thoughts of Junmyeon, that he forgot. Forgot the mission he has been sent on, really only thinking of the final deadline, the death of the prince. 

Yet today is the fateful day that will push everything in motion. How could he forget?

Hurriedly, he then leans forward, throws himself into the gossip to talk to the others and hear what they have to say. They whisper things he already knows, but he must confirm it, hear it from them now when it’s all happening. 

Apparently, one of the high-ranking officials, who is also a husband of one of the royal princesses, had run into the crown prince that morning and said something that angered the hot-tempered prince. Their conversation had turned into a real argument, a verbal fight even. It is no secret how frustrated everyone has been with the crown prince for the past years, so it is understandable how the official might have also lost his temper. But, unpredictable as the crown prince is, he then went on a rampage, much like the palace has so often seen in the past, where the crown prince has slaughtered servants and held their severed heads up for everyone to see. 

Yet this time, the crown prince did not attack a servant, or anyone of low worth, and instead swore to kill the official’s son- his own nephew. Now the crown prince is nowhere to be found, but the guards are all on high alert and searching for him. 

This gossip sends everyone in a tizzy. It’s unheard of, and everyone understands the gravity of the situation. If the crown prince makes good of his threat…

Chanyeol knows how the story ends. The crown prince is right now trying to sneak into the upper palace where he has been denied entry as of late to protect the members of the royal family living there. He’s going to use one of the streams running through the palace grounds to get in, sneaking past the guards and gates that way. He will search for the son of the official but won’t find him, and will return with just some personal items of the son instead. 

But the palace, being the gossip mill that it is, will in just few days convince itself that the crown prince tried to get into the upper palace to kill not just anyone, but the king himself. 

And so, the wheels are now turning, and it won’t end until the crown prince is dead. 

The court remains restless the entire day, whispering, gossiping, spreading rumors and the only tiny bits of actual facts they have. The knowledge of what the crown prince is capable of only adds fuel to the fire, and by the end of the day, Chanyeol has heard numerous versions of the story already. It’s not difficult to tell how the story is only going to keep growing, how it will be twisted even further.

It isn’t his task to judge the morality or the ethics of any of these events, but he can’t help but wonder. The crown prince is innocent, at least of the crime he is accused of- whether he would have killed the young boy if he had found him or not, there’s no way to tell. But he didn’t, and as such… Yet it is clear, now more than ever, how the crown prince is a danger to everyone in the royal family. It has been obvious for a long time, in all honesty, but because it has been only women and servants he has hurt, no one has cared very much.

But now he’s gone too far.

But Chanyeol also can’t help but ask himself, when did he start to care? When did he get so personally involved? He’s supposed to be the best of the best, and as such, having these kinds of thoughts is useless and amateur. Why is he so invested in this?

He can’t answer that without admitting to feelings he would rather pretend aren’t there.

He slips into Junmyeon’s quarters that evening, curious to hear if he could provide him with any interesting details. But he finds Junmyeon in his bed, crying, his whole body shaking with his sobs and shaky breaths. He’s lying on his stomach, face buried in pillows, so he doesn’t see or hear Chanyeol approaching. 

His heartbreaking cries feel like a vice around Chanyeol’s heart, digging in, punishing him. He stands still in the door way for a moment, but in the end, can’t bring himself to leave. Perhaps Junmyeon would like to keep his dignity, but Chanyeol cares too much to leave him like this. 

“Junmyeon-ah.” He speaks softly, but his voice still startles Junmyeon who jerks his head up to look at him once before burrowing back into the pillows. “What’s the matter?”

Junmyeon doesn’t respond. Chanyeol sits on the edge of the bed, and runs his hand down Junmyeon’s back, rubs it up and down steadily to hopefully give a soothing rhythm. Junmyeon continues to cry, sobs and coughs alike shaking his thin form. Chanyeol has an urge to just scoop him up and bring him into his arms, but he resists it. It would be… too much. 

He waits, patiently, just tries to comfort the prince through physical touch and give him time. He has nowhere to be, he can wait. Moments go by, of Junmyeon just crying hopelessly, Chanyeol’s hand tingling from the friction of rubbing it against the fabric of Junmyeon’s clothes. 

“My brother… He did something stupid today, and the king is so angry.” Junmyeon’s voice sounds so broken, his words choked up. “I’m scared- I’m scared of what the king might do. He’s so angry, I saw, I heard… I don’t know what will happen.”

Chanyeol aches despite having expected such words to come from Junmyeon’s mouth. It pains him, because he knows what will happen, he knows all too well. But he cannot say that to Junmyeon. He sighs quietly, shakes his head. 

“The king will make the right decision, I’m sure,” he chooses to say. “His anger will pass, and he will see things more clearly. You could talk to him, tomorrow perhaps, and offer your insight. I’m sure he would appreciate it. You’re a smart young man.”

Junmyeon sits up now. His face is blotchy and there’s snot running down his upper lip and chin, his eyes red and swollen. But even like this, he’s still not any less beautiful in Chanyeol’s eyes, and he realizes just how screwed he truly is. Yet now is not the time to have such thoughts. 

“I’m scared it won’t be enough, this time,” Junmyeon whispers, wiping at his face. “I’m scared… that this time my brother went too far. That there is not going to be a way to make amends.”

And he is right. He’s right, yet Chanyeol must hold his silence. Now, and always. 

“It’ll be alright. I’m sure it will work out, somehow. Trust me.”

What a lie that is. 

The days following the altercation continue to only stir the mess. It doesn’t take long before the crown prince is accused of the ultimate sin, of trying to seek out the king to take his life. It is something that no one can take lightly, and also something that scares even the kitchen maids. To think that someone could just murder the king, it shakes up their entire world. Of course, kings come and go, and the commoners at the far reaches of the kingdom might not always even know the name of the current king, but in the palace, they have a more concrete relationship with the ruler. And even to the peasants, the news that the king was murdered by his own son would be devastating. 

Now, the atmosphere is tense as people wait for something to happen. The officials all demand the king to do something, and discuss the matter by themselves, pulling Chanyeol in with them. Everyone waits, and debates, yet no one knows the answer to the questions being raised. To suggest that the crown prince be punished… It is not so easily said, and definitely not easily done. Convicting him of any crime would tarnish the king, and it would mean that his wife and children should also be punished. That cannot be done, not to the only legitimate line of male heirs to the throne. 

Junmyeon remains just as hopeless. He’s lost all strength, and is brought to tears easily. He confides in Chanyeol, in words and in physical touches as well, yet nothing seems to be of great comfort to him. Chanyeol does his best, listens to him and holds him close, holds him dear like the young man wants to be embraced, yet it’s dreadful to leave him by himself every night. 

It doesn’t look like the prince is getting much rest, his skin growing paler, his body thinner, the shadows under his eyes darker. His health is ailing, due to the immense stress he has been put under. Gone is the image of the perfectly well-mannered prince, always so composed and in control despite his state of complete powerlessness. There is not much left of the proud, calm man Chanyeol met for the first time when he walked into his quarters, or of the powerless prince trying his hardest to at least provide information and advice to the king. Now, he is just the young man he’s always been, deep down- a man with a good, loving heart, who grieves for the tragedy of his family, notwithstanding that this is, indeed, the royal family of the Joseon dynasty. 

“The queen asked the king… the king to take care of the crown prince, for good,” Junmyeon whispers to him two days before the crown prince will be nailed into that rice chest. “She said… she said that the crown prince is a problem for as long as he’s alive. That he might… he might kill the little prince, and then what do we do? But hyungnim, I’m scared- I don’t want him to die. I don’t want my brother to die.” And he breaks down in tears once more, curling up smaller in Chanyeol’s arms, gasping for breath like he’s drowning. 

The knowledge of what is to come has never been this heavy. 

He’s coughing so much, his crying not making it any better, and Chanyeol hauls him up with hands underneath his armpits to hold him upright against his body, Junmyeon’s head resting on his shoulder. He feels so inadequate, only being able to provide Junmyeon with his physical touch and not any comforting words. He can’t lie to Junmyeon, not anymore, and so silence is all he has to give. 

He rocks both of them side to side, rubbing warm hands down Junmyeon’s back. He’s grasping at straws, trying to find anything to say that would be of any use… but they both know that there is nothing left to be said. 

“The king will make the right decision,” he settles for. Junmyeon simply shakes his head in response, burrowing closer to him, but doesn’t say a word. 

Chanyeol is sure that he isn’t the only one grieving, or the only one desperate like this, yet Junmyeon has been left so alone. He hasn’t seen or heard anyone visiting him over the past few days, tough as they have been. The young prince is so isolated, and it seems as though Chanyeol is the only one who takes care of him.

They sit like that until the sun begins to go down. No words are exchanged, since they all seem so redundant. Nothing is going to make this situation less dreadful. Finally, after Chanyeol’s back has already begun to hurt and his crossed legs gone numb, Junmyeon pulls away to sit up straight again, head tilted down to hide his tear stained face. 

“I’m so sorry to burden you like this,” he whispers, his shoulders still shaking. “I… I wish I was stronger than this. I should act more composed, but it’s hard… I cannot find rest, all of this weighing on me so heavily. If only there was something I could do, but there isn’t anything. Yet I can’t even leave, and forget about this. There’s nothing so difficult as watching, helplessly…”

“I know.” But there is no escape Chanyeol could offer to him now.

***

He gets scolded by Kyungsoo when he goes home, once more, although his partner does his best to be gentle and considerate. He sits with Chanyeol in silence, drinking rice wine together, smoking their pipes, allowing Chanyeol a moment of peace before speaking up. His voice is quiet, his tone warm, and Chanyeol knows that Kyungsoo is speaking to him as a friend, not a colleague. It means a lot. 

“I’ve never seen you so beaten down because of a case,” he says, pouring them both more to drink. “I’ve never seen you so… affected by a mission. It isn’t like you didn’t know how this was going to end. You were only supposed to go in to the palace to confirm that the history unfolded like it has been said it did, so no surprises there. It doesn’t feel right, seeing you so worried and anxious over something.”

Chanyeol has no words to offer to Kyungsoo. Not even to Kyungsoo, he thinks somewhat bitterly. Silence seems to be the only thing he can provide, as of late. 

“But it isn’t the mission that got you so down, is it.” It’s not even a question. “It’s prince Junmyeon. You caught feelings.”

“I just care about him a lot,” Chanyeol mutters, knocking back the whole bowl of wine. “That is all. It’s depressing to see him so upset.”

“You have always been soft at heart like that,” Kyungsoo hums. “But this is something else. You care about him more than just ‘a lot’, and you know it. And here’s what I think- you’re not only sad because he is, but because you know we’re due to leave very soon. Once this is over, we won’t linger for much longer. You will have to say goodbye.”

Sometimes life would be easier if his partner wasn’t so clever.

“If I even get to say goodbye, that is.” He snuffs out his pipe, and stands up to walk to his bedroom. He knows he’s acting like a moody teenager, but he can’t help it. He’s exhausted, emotionally and physically.

“We can make sure that you get a chance,” Kyungsoo replies sincerely. “Yes, our departure will be fast and sudden, but that doesn’t mean you cannot speak with him first, or at least write to him. You don’t have to disappear like the dew before the sunrise.”

“How poetic,” Chanyeol spits, before marching off. 

The truth has always been the most painful.

***

The day of the execution is upon them in what feels like just a blink of an eye. Time is running out from between his fingers, no matter what he tries to do. His days are numbered, now, the fact solid and final like the nails hammered on the top of the rice chest, with the crown prince inside. 

The lower rank officials are not allowed to witness it, of course, but there is no hiding what is going on. The commotion was huge, people shouting and crying, the execution fully public even if quite anticlimactic so far. But everyone is talking, whispering again, like the wind travelling through blades of grass. 

They all know that the rice chest is there, sitting in the central courtyard, and the crown prince has been nailed inside it to die. But he is no longer the crown prince- he was stripped from his title before he had to step into what would be his grave.

Chanyeol aches to be with Junmyeon, worries for his wellbeing, but he can’t find an excuse to slip away. Doesn’t know if he would be allowed in, either, the whole palace in a state of alert and confusion. The king has prohibited anyone to speak of this outside these walls because the news of this would surely cause restlessness in the city. Some nobles and yangban will probably protest anyway. Not everyone agrees with the king or the decision he’s made.

But those are not the voices Chanyeol should pay heed to. He’s here to discover if this is a political murder, and so he should listen to those who advocate for this the strongest. Yet everyone seems sullen, quiet; if someone is feeling victorious, then they’re hiding it well. Nothing suggests that this was a carefully executed plan by anyone, but Chanyeol has to be honest. He hasn’t been on top of his game lately, for obvious reasons. If he has missed something crucial… 

Yet it’s difficult to feel upset about that right now. 

He doesn’t find a way to go see prince Junmyeon that day, and the prince doesn’t send for him either. He goes home late that night, feeling exhausted, worn to the bone. He feels like a failure, on all fronts, professional and personal alike. He ignores Kyungsoo and sits down at a low table to write his reports to record carefully the events of the day, what he saw and what he heard, trying to at least fulfill his duties to those in present day waiting for the results of his investigation. 

It’s new, knowing and feeling that he hasn’t performed up to par this time. He’s never had that happen to him, never really screwed up on a mission, but he also can’t help but think, so what? 

He just wants to know that Junmyeon is alright. 

The next day, he arrives early at the palace. He’s not alone- no one wants to miss a thing, with something so unusual taking place. There’s less confusion now, and more opinions, people either having made peace with the death sentence or having found reasons within them to disagree. Not that they would let the king know, of course. While the officials and scholars especially would usually not feel shy to express their opinions in the matters of the kingdom, they know that this is too personal. They all know something needed to be done about the mad prince causing terror in the palace regardless, just not perhaps this. 

Chanyeol keeps his mouth shut, and listens.

Junmyeon sends for him after lunch time, and Chanyeol can’t get to his living quarters fast enough, the hot sun beating down on him as he walks briskly through courtyards and long hallways to get to the prince’s residence. Junmyeon is sitting there, doors open towards the gardens, seated on the floor but his hands are empty. There’s no geomungo, no books, just him, sitting hunched over. He’s changed his attire into those fitting for mourning period, a clear sign of his stance on this; he doesn’t think his half-brother as a criminal, but grieves his impending death. He’s pale and looks tired, but there are no signs of tears on his face when he looks up to face Chanyeol. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come yesterday,” Chanyeol apologizes to him, taking a seat next to him and taking his hand in his carefully. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

“It is alright.” Junmyeon’s voice is quiet, rough at the edges. “Things were… quite chaotic.”

“They were.” There’s nothing left but to acknowledge the situation as it is. “And if it was bad on the other side, I cannot imagine how it must have been in here.”

Junmyeon squeezes his fingers tightly. “It was horrible,” he whispers. “My brother was begging for his life… I will never get the sound of the hammer out of my head, or his screams. He grew quiet eventually, and no one is allowed near now, so I do not know if he speaks, but it hurts to think about him inside that small thing.” 

Chanyeol understands that. He, too, finds the idea of being trapped in a small chest to die a terrible, terrible fate. He understands why it had to be done this way; there is no way to kill a member of the royal family, as their bodies are untouchable by law. The only way to execute him is to leave him to starve, or in this situation, die of dehydration in the heat of the Korean summer. 

“My brother’s wife and their children were sent away.” Junmyeon is stating these things so calmly, like he doesn’t have it in him to feel anything anymore. “The king doesn’t want them to be here while this is happening, and I am grateful… the small children don’t need to witness this. I wish I could go away too… Being this close, it’s awful. Far away, I could pretend it isn’t happening at all.”

Chanyeol pulls his hand free to wrap his arm around Junmyeon’s shoulders, but the other feels like a pillar of salt in his embrace. Junmyeon is trying so hard to distance himself from reality, Chanyeol realizes, trying so hard to lock away every feeling so he wouldn’t have to face the pain. And he won’t tell him what to do, won’t tell him how to process this, yet again he worries. Junmyeon is out of reach for things that people in modern day can resort to when their psyches break- therapy, medication, all of that. Once Chanyeol leaves, who is going to take care of Junmyeon’s mind, and body? Who is going to look after him, and make sure he recovers?

“I’m so sorry,” is all he can say, is the only bit of honesty he can provide. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

A day later, the king has the rice chest moved. The whole thing is wrapped in ropes and covered in hay, as though that will help the dying man somehow, and brought to the upper palace like that, out of sight for most in the palace. 

It’s dreadful, the waiting game. Chanyeol knows when it will end, but he can’t say that, and he doesn’t know if anyone in the palace has the common knowledge of how long someone can survive without water. He hears from servants that the prince screams sometimes, begs for his life, cries, or gives into fits of rage. It sounds like he’s banging against the wood as if to escape, which probably explains the ropes. The chest is now close to the king’s living quarters and he can probably hear it too, which some believe to serve him right. He should be aware of every moment that his son spends in that box, dying in agony. 

Junmyeon is just as apathetic as before. He lets Chanyeol to hold himself, even curls his fingers into the material of his robes, but he speaks little, and eats only what Chanyeol urges him to. He’s taking this so hard, and again, Chanyeol aches. 

“My brother wasn’t there to kill our father,” he whispers quietly to Chanyeol after they’ve had a small meal. “I know he wasn’t. I heard him scream about wanting to find the boy. He wasn’t looking for the king. This isn’t right.”

Chanyeol took out his pipe to smoke, but sets it aside to take Junmyeon’s hand. “Did the king know this?” he asks carefully. If Junmyeon is offering him any valuable information right now, he has to hear it. As blinded as he is by how awful he feels for Junmyeon, he hasn’t entirely forgotten his duties. 

“He did.” Junmyeon shakes his head, the corners of his mouth turned downwards. “He knows. But… But he said, something has to be done. If not now, then once he actually kills one of our own. And then, then it might be too late. If it was the little prince, the new crown prince…”

He sounds resigned, and Chanyeol understands. But it also confirms it; there is no political conspiracy. The king made the decision knowing the facts and quite probably with a heavy heart. That is all there is. 

“The king made the best decision he could… even if it was the most painful one.” He doesn’t want to say that it was right. It would be a slap to Junmyeon’s face, to claim that so boldly. 

Junmyeon coughs into his handkerchief, long and hard, before stuffing the piece of cloth into his wide sleeve. “Wouldn’t hyungnim sing for me?” he suddenly asks. “I’m so weary… I would love to just sit here, and listen to your voice. Let it take me away from here, even if just for a while.”

Perhaps it isn’t entirely proper, to sing at a moment like this. But their people has always loved music, have always loved singing, and even burials are an occasion for songs, dance, music. So really- no one here is going to judge. Chanyeol leaves his pipe to the side and wets his lips before he begins, choosing one of Junmyeon’s favourite gasa songs. It’s a long one, the tempo slow, and singing it from start to finish takes a good long while, but what is the rush?

Except he has barely over a week, before he must go back home. 

And so comes day three, day four, day five after Sado was put in the rice chest. Six days total, of the slow execution. No news come from the upper palace, except that he’s still alive. The palace settles into a weird sense of calm somehow, just quietly preparing for what will happen after Sado dies. They do not know if the king will allow for a proper burial, if he will reinstate the prince, but they hope so. There is nothing quite so dreadful than not being allowed honor even in death, and it would leave most uneasy. 

Nobody wants the spirit of the mad prince to linger with them out of spite and out of anger that his body wasn’t treated with respect. 

Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol if he should make a visit to the present day. “To get your mind off things, you know. This whole mess right here, it isn’t going anywhere. It will be right where you left it, unfortunately. Would it not be for the best, to put some distance between this and yourself? The pod leaves every 12 hours now, just to give us a chance to report immediately if anything surprising happens, or if we need to go back to check something. You could just take the pod, and take a couple of days off.”

What Kyungsoo means is it would be good to put some distance between him and Junmyeon, Chanyeol assumes. But he shakes his head. “It would only make this drag on for longer,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about this, any of this. At least it will be over sooner, if I just stay here.”

“Suit yourself.” Kyungsoo looks worried, but he doesn’t bring it up again. He hasn’t brought up Junmyeon again either, and hasn’t scolded Chanyeol about him. Either he’s doing it out of kindness, or he has simply given up on Chanyeol. Chanyeol doesn’t care- he’s simply grateful for the merciful silence between them.

On day seven, Junmyeon asks him to stay the night. 

“I don’t think Jangheon hyungnim will live much longer.” His eyes are dark, but there’s no sign of tears. “He’s weak, his voice barely audible. He has given up fighting. The end is near, and I… I don’t wish to be alone, when it comes. Please?”

Chanyeol would have to stomp all over his own heart and toss it out, to be able to refuse that plea. “I will only send a letter home, so they know not to wait for me,” he replies with, and Junmyeon is more than willing to lend him a slip of paper and some ink.

Dinner is a quiet affair. Junmyeon is mostly pushing food around on his plate, and conversation keeps dying out after just a few sentences. The night around them grows dark and silent, the entire palace huddling inside, waiting in fearful silence. But it is the unspoken truth that by now, the death of the crown prince would be a relief for everyone, would put an end not only to these dreadful days but also several years of terror the palace has been through because of the prince’s erratic behavior. 

Chanyeol is only slightly curious of what the man’s diagnosis would be, if he was examined by real medical professionals of the 21st century. Sending one here, though, and getting them close enough to the prince would have been impossible, not to mention the actual threat of being killed in the hands of the prince in the process. He has discovered that the more he solves secrets in the past, the more unanswered questions will arise. It’s a job for the curious, but not for those who let these things keep them up at night. 

Glancing at Junmyeon, he figures he has become one of the latter, rather than the former. 

Once they have eaten, Junmyeon stands up and gestures for Chanyeol to do the same. “I want to go outside, I feel like suffocating here,” he says as an explanation, and only pauses to grab his fan before heading outside. Chanyeol has no choice but to follow him, also holding his fan in one hand. 

Despite it being already quite late, it’s still very, very warm. Korean summer nights can be almost tropical, the humidity and the heat not letting up to give the people any relief. The fans are much needed, as they stroll through the silent palace and towards the gardens. Chanyeol is surprised to realize that Junmyeon is headed for the gardens in the upper palace; they have never been there together, as it is usually reserved only for the core members of the royal family. Not for a government official like him, or even a prince like Junmyeon. But Junmyeon appears to be unbothered as he walks up to the gates leading further in, and exchanges only a few words with the guards who grant them entrance with no fuss. 

He can’t help but feel slightly at awe as they walk further in and enter the gardens. It’s dark and there are no lights out, but he can see the glimmer of water even with just the moonlight overhead, and can see the silhouettes of trees, bushes, statues. No doubt the gardens of the upper palace are a beautiful sight in the daylight; Chanyeol has visited them, of course, in the present day, but he is sure that it doesn’t compare to the original grandeur of the place when real kings still governed all of Korea. 

Junmyeon wraps his arm around Chanyeol’s and presses near, fanning himself with his other hand as they walk around the pond with slow, steady steps. This could even be a romantic stroll, really, and Chanyeol’s heart only grows heavier with the thought as it crosses his mind. If only the occasion was different… It’s almost as though they’re measuring time with their steps, steadily walking closer to the death of prince Jangheon, closer to the moment when Chanyeol must leave. These are quite different in nature, yet just as final, just as permanent. Both him and Jangheon are never to return to this place, this time, and neither of them can escape that fate. 

Chanyeol thinks he has died a thousand times, travelling through centuries like this, having left so many people behind. So many stories he built for himself, built with others. All has turned into ashes, and escaped through his fingers. 

Suddenly he feels exhausted, exhausted beyond words. 

“Jangheon hyungnim used to bring me here to play, when we were young,” Junmyeon says quietly. “I wasn’t allowed to live with him or the others because I wasn’t of the same status, but he always wanted me to play with him, with everyone else. And I would have lessons together with him, too, and when we were done, we would run outside to play again. Those are my fondest memories, from my childhood.”

He does sound fond, his voice heavy with emotion but Chanyeol doesn’t hear any tears in it. Junmyeon coughs into his sleeve before he continues. “Sometimes even the king would come see us, during lessons or when we were playing. I knew he was my father, but I was never allowed to call him that… Jangheon hyungnim was, but I wasn’t jealous. I just thought that it was something he could do because he was older than me.” He laughs. “It was only later that I understood what my position really meant. But when he would sit and watch us play, or come to our lessons to listen and see how we were making progress… I remember wanting to impress him so badly. I did my best, to make him proud, and he always praised me. With very few words, but he always said that I was bright, and studying hard.”

He takes a short pause. “But not Jangheon hyungnim.” Junmyeon tilts his head to rest it against Chanyeol’s shoulder as they walk. “He never praised him. Never said that he was doing well. The king always found fault in him and his progress, and even when we would play, the king sometimes scolded Jangheon for wasting his time and not studying more. Jangheon hyungnim once told me, he was afraid… afraid of the king. That he wished he was like me, instead. Bright and clever, but also not an heir to the throne.”

Chanyeol isn’t sure what to say. This is also no news to him, as this is all well-known fact in the modern-day history books. But of course, as a mere official, he isn’t supposed to know any of it. 

“It sounds like the king was very concerned about raising an heir fit to be a ruler,” he replies diplomatically, and Junmyeon heaves a sigh. 

“I guess. But I wonder… I wonder if Jangheon hyungnim would have been able to be happy, if the king had been more satisfied with him. He didn’t have to be smart, I was going to help him… And if he had been happy, maybe none of this would have happened. But who knows.” 

There’s truth to what Junmyeon is saying, yet it’s too late. The what ifs, they will forever remain unanswered. 

“Are you happy, Junmyeon? Have you… been able to find happiness?”

One step, two steps, three steps. Closer to completing a lap around the pond, closer to the end of the night. Closer to goodbye. 

“No. But with you, when we laugh together… I can sometimes imagine, how that would be like.”

Chanyeol is a coward, and doesn’t say anything to that, allows the silence to linger. There’s too much behind those words, and what they could mean. Perhaps he should be surprised, to hear Junmyeon imply such a thing… But he isn’t blind. It’s part of his training, to discern how people feel about him. He has known of how fond Junmyeon is of him- yet to think that there could be more to it, it seems like a delusional trick to play on himself. 

Junmyeon doesn’t speak either, and once they’ve walked around the pond one more time, they head back to Junmyeon’s quarters, Junmyeon directing him with the arm around his. No words are spoken as they walk, the night around them ushering them back inside.

There is only Junmyeon’s bed for them to sleep in, and so Chanyeol of course offers to lay down on the floor next to it. But Junmyeon shakes his head, and pulls him down on the low bed with him, the silk of their clothes brushing together, against the soft bedding. 

“Sleep close to me, please. I want to know… I want to know that I’m not alone.”

And it is so easy, to press closer to each other; they’ve shared so many touches, so many moments of quiet affection, that it comes easy now to lay side by side. Junmyeon shuffles closer to him until they’re pressed together, the whole length of their bodies, and Chanyeol still doesn’t speak a word, his heart in his throat, beating faster. A part of him doesn’t want the taste of the forbidden fruit, in the fear that it’s going to leave him craving for it, but a part of him doesn’t care. That part of him thinks that it would be better to have at least this, just this, to comfort him later. When it’s all over. 

Somehow this feels so final, the goodbye suddenly nearer than he thought.

“Won’t you hold me? The night is growing darker… and I’m growing more afraid.” Junmyeon’s voice sounds small in the suffocating darkness around them, but Chanyeol doesn’t miss a word. He obeys, obeys like he’s grown used to do with Junmyeon, and reaches for him to let him slide into his arms, closer to him.

Junmyeon is so small, resting against him, his head tucked underneath Chanyeol’s chin, hands fisted in the front of his shirt. It’s such an intimate position, yet neither of them pull further away. The taste of the forbidden fruit- it is sweet, yet it burns. Chanyeol closes his eyes, wills his breaths to come slow and steady.

It is here, now, as they wait in silence, that he has to admit it; he has fallen for the prince, for the man in his embrace. But he also knows, that he must weed out those feelings as soon as possible. This isn’t meant to be. He cannot have this, there is no way for them to be together. It is just impossible, for anything to ever come out of this.

He strokes Junmyeon’s hair gently, takes in his clean, soft scent. He has shared so much of himself with Junmyeon, offered his heart to him, and received so much in return. They’ve developed such a precious bond between them… how could he not have fallen, even in such a short period of time? He should have seen this coming, yet he knows he willingly turned a blind eye. It’s all his fault, and the guilt is starting to creep up on him now.

Chanyeol knows there is a price to pay, for all of this, and suddenly he doesn’t know if he’s prepared for it.

Junmyeon appears to drift off after some time, but Chanyeol can’t find rest. The new realization frightens him beyond measure, and slowly solidifies one thought: he has to leave. The longer he stays, the longer he allows himself to linger in this false sense of hope, the worse it will be. 

The harder it will make it for him to say goodbye.

He doesn’t know if Junmyeon feels quite the same for him, but he also can’t help but feel the immense guilt of having fooled him like this. He has gained Junmyeon’s trust, his affections no matter if they’re just platonic in nature, and Chanyeol feels like human scum for that. Here he is, taking all this so selfishly, even when the poor prince still doesn’t know that Chanyeol will be gone before he knows it. 

Would Junmyeon have given him this moment, had he known the truth?

The longer he mulls it over, the longer he’s alone with his thoughts, the more anxious he becomes, the more it hurts. He’s torn between the need to hold Junmyeon tighter, to feel his body against him, and the desire to run away and never return. Never look back, and pretend like he isn’t leaving Junmyeon behind to grieve the loss of a close friend. Perhaps… perhaps the loss of someone even dearer than that. 

Finally, at the first break of dawn, Chanyeol rises. He can’t take it anymore, can’t breathe the same air as the delicate, beautiful prince who has trusted him with so much. He has to go. He rolls out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping prince, and gets dressed in the twilight, fumbling with his clothes. He will have to walk back home, but it is alright. No one will be awake yet, no one will see. 

He pauses in the doorway, looks back to Junmyeon. He looks so sweet, tangled in the sheets, his black hair braided and cascading down his back. He looks so young, so peaceful like this; an expression that Chanyeol hasn’t seen on his face in so long. His heart aches, and he wishes he could take a picture to keep with him, but there are no such luxuries here. This, this is all he will be able to take with him.

He knows that he can never speak of this with anyone. He can’t share this story, this romance that he had to end before it could even begin. No one can know, except Kyungsoo, but even his partner will most likely just judge him. No, this is his burden to bear- and with that, he turns away, and hurries out of the palace like he’s being chased by something. 

He has to get away.

When he reaches home, he can hear the massive bells of the city wall gates ringing, signaling the opening of the gates, and the beginning of the new day. Soon, the crown prince will be discovered dead, and Junmyeon will wake up to an empty bed- to a world without his brother, and to a world without Chanyeol. The gears of time will keep on turning, despite the little humans stuck in the middle of it all.

He goes to wake up Kyungsoo, who is not at all as grumpy as Chanyeol expected him to be, pulled out of his slumber so early. “Did something happen? I thought you were spending the night with Junmyeon.” He’s squinting in the twilight of the early morning, looking at Chanyeol way too intensely. Chanyeol has to turn away, hang his head down. He has let everyone down, Kyungsoo included. The man did not sign up for his partner fucking up this whole mission, when they embarked on it.

“I… I think I need to hurry home, as fast as I can,” he replies, his voice hoarse. “I… I would leave right away, but I know that it would be impossible to explain. But I want to go back. I can’t stay here any longer, I got all that I need.”

Kyungsoo’s hand squeezes his shoulder, and they sit like that, wordlessly. Chanyeol is trying to fight all the emotion back, as to not give into it too much. He has to keep his wits about him, difficult as it may be. 

“We will arrange for it. Just give me, like, a day. Then we will be gone.” They already have a plan in place for this, something they drafted long ago. They will pretend Chanyeol got an urgent order from the court to head back to Pyongyang to do something important there immediately, perhaps to inform the families there that the crown prince has passed away. Then, some months later, Kyungsoo will come back to notify the court of Chanyeol’s passing, so that no one will look for him any longer. It will leave holes in the story, but it’s alright. No one will think too hard about some average, mundane official and his whereabouts. 

Except Junmyeon. Will he grieve for him? Will it hurt him, to discover Chanyeol has died? Chanyeol has died false deaths a thousand times, yet he has never paused to think about the people who could be affected. But now… Now he feels guilty, the weight of it heavy on his shoulders.

He’s grateful Kyungsoo doesn’t question him, doesn’t ask him why the sudden hurry. Perhaps he saw this coming, too. In any case, Chanyeol is grateful he doesn’t have to explain himself- this shame is for him to carry alone.

He doesn’t return to the palace that day. He assumes that Junmyeon won’t have the time to think of him, anyway. The news of the death of the crown prince spread in the city now, and so the palace must be busy preparing for a royal funeral. With that as their smoke curtain, they begin the preparations to head north as though in a hurry. They will ride out just the two of them, him and Kyungsoo, and he orders the servants to take care of things as usual until he returns. They, too, will receive the notification of his death in due time.

As Kyungsoo works with the servants to pack everything that they can take with them on horseback, he sits down at his desk to write one letter. As much as he wants to get away, to escape his guilt, he knows he cannot leave without a word. He has to explain it to Junmyeon- because otherwise he might cause a fuss around it, is his rational reasoning, yet his heart says otherwise. 

Junmyeon deserves a proper goodbye, no matter how sudden.

The words don’t come easy. Chanyeol has never been much of a poet, and it feels unbearable to lie. Yet he knows he must, and keep his secrets in his heart. Spilling it all out now would only hurt Junmyeon more. Goodbyes are not the time for confessions of any kind.

‘Dear Junmyeon. As you’re reading this, I am already riding towards Pyongyang on an urgent matter assigned to me by the highest officials. I am sorry I couldn’t make it to you in person to say this, but I was pressed for time and urged to head out as fast as I could. In my desire to serve my country and my king as well as I can, especially at a time like this, I could not stall, despite my personal wish to at least say my goodbyes properly. I am sorry I cannot be with you at a time like this where everything is difficult and you might feel lost and alone. I can never apologize enough for that. But my duty is with the king and the kingdom, and as an official, I must do my best, always.

I will think of you fondly, and I wish you will be well even while I’m gone. Take care of yourself, for me. Find happiness in what you can. The king needs your counsel more than ever. This is the day you have prepared for, with all of your hard work. Do not let your brilliance go to waste.

With sincere heart,

your hyungnim’

It is not enough. There are so many things he wishes he could say- wishes he could tell Junmyeon not to wait for his return, warn him of what is to come, but he cannot. Again, his hands are bound by his job and the nature of it.

How quickly he has grown to loathe everything that his job stands for, the never-ending secrets it comes with. Including even his own name, for he has not been able to tell it to Junmyeon because of the fake identity he has been forced to adopt. 

He leaves the letter with a servant and orders them to take it to the palace the next day. He doesn’t want Junmyeon to receive it before he’s gone.

It’s one more sleepless night for him, as he waits for the hours to tick by. They have to set out early, to make it to the pod on time. Chanyeol is grateful that the pod is operating back and forth so fast right now, because he doesn’t know how he could wait days or even weeks to escape 1762.

To escape his feelings for Junmyeon. 

His decision wavers many times, though, the longer he sits in the darkness. He knows he’s cowardly, he knows that he could stay for a few days more. But at the same time, it’s of no use. The fact remains that he will have to leave, and he doesn’t know how he could conceal his emotions from Junmyeon for that long. He yearns to stay, yet he knows it’s not in the realm of possibility. It never was. 

The temptation, though, it still lingers.

Kyungsoo comes to wake him up an hour before sunrise, and they get dressed together and eat the simple breakfast the maids prepared. Most servants are still asleep, and it seems better that way. The less people he has to face, the better. The morning is so eerie when they step outside, everything covered in a fine layer of fog. No voices can be heard except their own and the horses moving their feet as they wait, and it feels like a dream. Like he has stepped out of reality into something else.

They mount their horses and head out, only saying curt goodbyes to the servants who helped prepare the horses for them. Nothing grand is needed, after all; there is nothing odd about an official riding out on an urgent matter of the kingdom. They expect him to return, as they should.

No words are exchanged between them, still, as they ride out of the city. Chanyeol ushers his horse into a trot to move faster, feeling the same urgency he felt when he last left the palace, like if he doesn’t move fast enough something is going to catch him. He doesn’t know what it might be, but he doesn’t wish to find out. Kyungsoo follows close behind, not protesting the fast pace.

They reach the city wall and the gate just as it’s being opened. They have to halt only for a moment, before they can ride out, going against the small tide of merchants coming into the city to trade. Chanyeol spares them no mind, and just pushes on, weaving through between the carts and people to get on the road.

The pod is in the same spot where he arrived in, and out of the city, they can usher their horses to gallop forward, urging them to run faster. They have enough time, plenty of it, but they don’t want to take any chances. They would have to wait 12 hours for the next returning flight, and Chanyeol doesn’t want to brew in his internal dilemmas any longer. He doesn’t know why he expects them to disappear once he’s back in 2017, but it doesn’t matter. He just has to get away from the world where Junmyeon exists. 

They arrive at the field where the pod is located, and get off their horses and strip them down from their saddles and reins, setting them free. They will find enough to eat in the wild until someone catches them, and that will be that. Their belongings they will have to send back in another pod, because burning all of it would attract too much attention. The horses look at them in confusion but when Chanyeol smacks his open palm on the back of one, they both take off and disappear out of sight soon enough.

Together they drag all of their belongings to the pod behind the shrubbery that they’ve used as its cover. If anyone was to travel the road, they might be able to spot them, but the branches are thick and the plants flourishing, so crouching down they should be invisible to anyone passing by. Chanyeol activates the pod and makes it visible again so he can climb in while Kyungsoo fills his lap with as many items as possible.

“Send it back twice, once for the rest of these things and once for me,” he says. “That should be enough.”

“Alright, agent Do.” But Chanyeol can’t put his heart into teasing Kyungsoo right now. He sighs, and shakes his head. They have a few more minutes before the pod is due to leave. “I’m… I’m really sorry, that I’m doing this. I know I’m rushing the end of this mission but I fear… I fear I would blow my cover, if I stayed.”

Kyungsoo sighs, and gives him one of his knowing smiles. “It’s alright. I am not surprised, that this happened, if I’m entirely honest. We’ve been friends for this long, Chanyeol. You weren’t fooling me, at all.”

Chanyeol gives a hollow laugh. “I guess.” Not that he even tried to lie to Kyungsoo. He was far too preoccupied with everything else to even consider doing that. “Thank you, for being supportive. It means a lot.”

His partner reaches in to pat his hand gently. “It’s kind of my job, as your partner. That, and to call you out on your bullshit. But right now, I think that this is the right thing to do. There’s nothing left for us here.”

“Right. Nothing left for us.” 

Except what feels like Chanyeol’s whole heart. 

Kyungsoo closes the lid of the pod, and soon it whirs back to life, right on schedule. Chanyeol closes his eyes, like always, and lets the device beam him back to the present day, yet his mind and heart remain just as heavy when he climbs out of it, no matter how much he wished for a different reality.

“Welcome back, agent Park.”


	4. Chapter 4

In 2017, it’s a bleak world.

Chanyeol goes through the motions of returning from a mission, getting readjusted to life in the modern world. He has his hair extensions taken out, takes a proper shower, changes into his own clothes. Goes to work at 9A.M. and works in an office with a computer, typing up reports and documents regarding his mission. He has a lot of handwritten notes to put into digital form, and also heaps of standard paperwork to complete. But looking at the notes he wrote, he can’t help but think of Junmyeon. He mentions his name often in his reports from the field, since he was his most important source of information on the crown prince.

Seeing his name hurts.

He sees his colleagues, makes small talk with them. He attends meetings, answers questions by others on what he witnessed. He even goes to give lectures to agents still in training, telling them about his mission, about the late 18th century, about this and that. And again, he has to mention Junmyeon, has to willingly think back to their time spent together.

“Reliable informants are the key to any successful mission,” he hears his own voice say. “Gaining their trust is crucial, so you have to develop your interpersonal skills. You’re of no use, as an agent, if you cannot build relationships. Build them quick, and use them to your advantage.”

He feels nauseous, uttering such words. Was that all Junmyeon was to him, a textbook example of how to carry out a mission on the field? Another face in the crowd, another tick in the box?

Days drag on, the hours slow but the days passing by before he realizes. It’s all muddled together, in a mess of conflicted thoughts and lonely nights, spent in overwhelming guilt and heartbreak. He has had to make amends with himself in the past after mentally difficult missions, but this is nothing like it. This time, though, he cannot even defend his own actions. 

What if he broke Junmyeon’s heart. What if Junmyeon cared about him like he cares about the prince. What if they could have had something… something more. It was already so beautiful, so special to him, the moments they shared- it’s not hard to imagine what more there could have been.

He regrets not kissing him, when he still had the chance. The slight taste of the forbidden fruit he got, it isn’t enough- yet he knows that he could not sleep at night, had he done that. He has never been the type to lead someone on and then disappear the next day- so why would that be alright, if he did that on a mission to someone living hundreds of years in the past?

Kyungsoo drags him out, to eat and to drink, but he finds hardly any joy in it. Chanyeol feels like a pathetic teenager, with how everything reminds him of Junmyeon, but there’s no use denying it. 

It would have been better to not realize how he feels for the prince. It would be better, if the last night never happened.

Yet he would never give that up, not for anything in the world.

His colleagues start to notice. “Did something happen?” Minseok asks, when they meet in the hallway of the office. “You’ve been… really down, ever since you got back. You seemed fine at the beginning, and then we didn’t even see you for the last half of it, and now- now you’re all mopey and sad. You have been this way for weeks now.”

Chanyeol looks down at the tips of his shoes. It feels like Minseok is scolding him, even if he knows that probably isn’t his intention. Yet Minseok is older than him and a bit higher in rank, and so it’s hard not to have his pride wounded. Since when has agent Park been a cause for concern among the higher-ups? Since when has anyone had to scold him for the way he carries out his missions?

“Nothing happened,” he insists. He thinks that Minseok might be able to understand, probably wouldn’t judge him even if he confessed, but he knows that this is his burden to bear. “I’m just… Witnessing what happened to prince Sado, it was upsetting. I don’t know. Something about it…”

Minseok pats his shoulder, his hand firm but not unkind. “I know,” he replies. “It’s hard to watch people suffer from things we could heal so easily, in the present day. Even Sado’s mental illness, we could have taken care of. But history has already written itself, and we’re not here to change it.”

It’s an excuse, good as any, and Chanyeol pretends that this conversation is of any comfort to him. Lies through his teeth, with his smiles and tone of voice, uses his agent training against a work friend. But deep down, Minseok’s words only serve to remind him of Junmyeon and his health condition. He wouldn’t have to be sick, if he were here… he wouldn’t have to cough so much, if he were here.

He would be free, if he were here. 

Chanyeol holds another lecture some days after that, is substituting for the full-time lecturer. He has recounted all of his missions so many times that he can do it without thinking, without even paying attention to the word coming out of his mouth. Can answer questions without hesitation. He shows all the same slide shows, all the same pictures, tells all the same funny anecdotes to make his audience laugh. He could be good at this, if he wanted- and somehow, it feels better than thinking of going back on another mission, running into the same moral dilemmas he has somehow awakened within himself.

Just a few short months ago, he would not have believed he could ever think this way.

But then, there’s a new question. Someone raises their hand and Chanyeol gives them the permission to talk. “I was just thinking,” the girl says, twirling her pen in between her fingers, “what happened to the prince? Your informant, that is. We all know what happened to Sado.”

There’s laughter in the classroom, but Chanyeol is a little bit stunned. What happened to Junmyeon, indeed? He tries to wrack his brain for an answer, but comes up with nothing. What exactly is Junmyeon’s fate? He licks his lips, hesitates. 

“I don’t think I know the answer to that,” he has to admit out loud. “I didn’t think to check.” Was too preoccupied with his own pain, too busy trying to will himself to forget with so little success. Just the mere mention of Junmyeon’s name was too painful, and looking up who he might end up marrying, what a happy life he would lead, it just seemed like a slap in the face. 

“But I’m sure he got some sort of happily ever after. You know, got married, helped his nephew rule the kingdom successfully. That kind of thing.” That must have been what happened. He doesn’t see any reason why that wouldn’t have been the case, at least.

The students seem to be nodding their heads thoughtfully, but he can tell that his answer wasn’t quite satisfactory. “I’ll get back to you on that,” he promises. “I don’t think he was significant enough to have gotten his own Wikipedia page.”

The thought doesn’t leave him for the rest of the lecture, nagging at the back of his mind the entire time, distracting him. It’s been so painful to think about Junmyeon, but now he can’t help but wonder. What kind of life did Junmyeon lead? Maybe he went on to compose something wonderful for his instrument, the geomungo, or maybe he wrote wonderful poetry. 

Chanyeol walks back to his work space, an office he shares with Kyungsoo, and opens up his computer to get to the official database. They have scanned and cataloged thousands and thousands of documents and writings of the past, as well as their own reports, to create a database sufficient enough to prepare them for each of their missions. There’s a lot of classified information on there, things not even the most renowned historians don’t have access to unless they’re working for the time travel agency and sworn under an oath of secrecy. It’s really quite impressive, and although Junmyeon definitely doesn’t have his own Wikipedia entry, there should be something written about him in the database. 

He types Junmyeon’s name in the search bar together with his official title, and hits enter. 

The entry on him isn’t terribly long. Chanyeol barely skims through the first part, already well informed on Junmyeon’s childhood and early adult years. That isn’t what he needs to find out.

But there is nothing beyond his early adult years.

‘Prince Junmyeon passed away in 1762 from a difficult health condition that he suffered from his entire life, the illness mostly affecting his lungs and respiratory system. Some speculate that he might have suffered from either asthma or liquid building up in his lungs. It appears that he caught an illness of some sort, probably a variant of the flu, developed pneumonia, and died from it quite quickly due to his already poor health. Some personal diaries recorded that the prince was extremely depressed and not eating or taking care of himself, which weakened him significantly. It is thus fair to assume, that his emotional suffering was the catalyst for his early death. His half-brother had been executed only a few months prior but it is also recorded that the prince suffered a terrible heartbreak around the same time, although it isn’t clear who he fell in love with.’

He can only stare at the page, his eyes looking at the words but seeing nothing. The words ring in his head though, like an echo bouncing back and forth. Junmyeon died. Junmyeon died of pneumonia in 1762, soon after he left.

Junmyeon suffered from depression after having his heart broken by somebody- broken by none other than Chanyeol.

Horrible images flash before his eyes. He knew that Junmyeon wasn’t well, rationally he knew yet he always blocked that out of his mind, chose to turn a blind eye to it. The medicinal tea- he knew it was medicine, after Junmyeon told him, but he pushed it out of his mind. The constant coughing, the pale color of his skin, the feverish appearance of his flushed cheeks. Junmyeon was ailing the entire time, and Chanyeol abandoning him on the day of his brother’s death pushed him right into his death.

Somehow it feels like Chanyeol buried him himself. 

Suddenly he can’t breathe, the entire room closing in on him. He’s falling into a state of panic, the emotions overwhelming. Junmyeon is going to die- has already died. Junmyeon died, because of him. And although this all has already unfolded, hundreds of years in the past, it hurts as though it just happened, in the world that he lives in. 

When he buries his face in his hands, his cheeks are wet against the palms of his hands. 

He left Junmyeon to die. He deceived Junmyeon into thinking that what they had would last forever, fooled him into trusting him and opening up his heart to him, only to stomp on it and leave it ruined. Leave it too weak to survive the next illness to befall him, eventually leading to his early demise. 

Chanyeol cries, but his tears cannot cleanse him, cannot wash him clean of the crime he committed. 

Junmyeon deserved better than that, deserved so much more. The sweetest, most beautiful singing bird- Chanyeol should have sent him free, not broken his wings beyond repair. 

He stays like that, hunched over, until the sun sets and the room grows dark. It is how Kyungsoo finds him when he walks in at the end of the day to retrieve his belongings and go home. He scares his partner badly as well, when Kyungsoo flicks on the lights only to reveal Chanyeol there, at his desk, crumpled up like a piece of wet paper.

“Jesus- Jesus Christ, Chanyeol! Way to give me a heart attack- fuck, are you alright?” Kyungsoo grabs his office chair and spins him around so that he can see him better, kneels down in front of him to get on the eye level with him. “Chanyeol, talk to me. What happened? Are you in pain?”

Chanyeol doesn’t have it in him to articulate a response. Cannot bring himself to say the words with his own mouth. Instead, he gestures towards the computer and its already blackened screen, as it went to sleep long time ago. But Kyungsoo understands, and hits the keyboard to bring it back to life.

“What’s your password?” 

“My name, your birthday.” 

“I guess I’m flattered.” Kyungsoo’s dry retort makes a small smile tug at the corners of Chanyeol’s mouth, although not for very long. He cannot bear to look at the screen anymore, the image of the page burned into his memory forever. 

There’s a moment of silence as Kyungsoo reads what is written on the screen, and Chanyeol can hear his gasp when he gets to the paragraph that left Chanyeol in this state. Kyungsoo’s hand finds his shoulder again and squeezes tightly as he processes the new information. Clearly Kyungsoo hadn’t thought to look this up either. 

“I’m so sorry, Chanyeol,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry. That’s… That’s terrible.”

It’s an understatement, but truly, there are no adequate words to describe this. The rug has been pulled from under Chanyeol’s feet, and he doesn’t know how to accept this, how to move on from this. Of course, he knew that from the perspective of the present day, Junmyeon died a long time ago- but to discover that he was the indirect reason for it, and that Junmyeon died only months after his departure, it’s painful. 

“I left because I felt so guilty,” he whispers, digging the palms of his hands into his eye sockets until all he sees is stars. “I left, because I felt awful about what I was doing to him, with him. And now, I feel a thousand times guiltier still. I killed him, Kyungsoo. I killed him.”

Junmyeon never got the happy ending he deserved. 

Kyungsoo is silent for a while. Chanyeol doesn’t blame him; he hardly knows what to say either. Instances like this are supposed to become common place in their field, through training and work experience, but nothing Chanyeol has ever encountered has prepared him for this. And it is now, looking back, that he loathes his job more than he ever has before. For putting him in a position such as this, for forcing him to lie and deceive, for making him develop bonds with people only to abandon them months, if not weeks after the fact. He might have solved many mysteries and questions about the past, but how many lives has he involuntarily changed or ruined, with no personal responsibility or accountability for his actions?

He killed Junmyeon. 

Again, he weeps, with Kyungsoo trying to offer him comfort through physical touch, yet he knows he cannot forgive this to himself. Not for as long as he lives.

That night, Chanyeol goes home with a heavy heart, barely stumbling his way all the way back to his apartment. He doesn’t feel entirely present, not entirely connected to the reality, his mind and emotions too preoccupied with Junmyeon. The sweet prince, the caged bird who only wanted to be useful, save his brother, and find a bit of happiness of his own. Junmyeon never deserved to die simply because Chanyeol made him fall for him and then left him so suddenly. Junmyeon didn’t ask for it, yet Chanyeol still selfishly did it. Because he needed an informant. 

But a part of him knows that he was honest, or as honest as he was allowed to be, with Junmyeon. That the moments they spent together, the connection they had- it was all real. It wasn’t his own agent training, it wasn’t him calculating and cunning his every move. He sought Junmyeon out so often because he enjoyed his company, and nothing is ever going to change that. 

If he grew close to Junmyeon merely to carry out his duty, then why is his heart broken as well?

These thoughts do not leave him alone. It’s the weekend, so he just stays in his apartment, locked in. Kyungsoo tries calling him a couple of times, but Chanyeol always disconnects the call quickly. He doesn’t wish to talk, although he understands that Kyungsoo is simply worried about him. 

He doesn’t see a way forward, doesn’t see a way out of the darkness his mind has slipped into. This guilt, it’s impossible to make amends with. He cannot reason it away, and every argument only leads back to the fact that it is all his fault. Junmyeon would have lived a long, happy life, had Chanyeol not done what he did.

Kyungsoo’s rational voice would probably argue against that, claim that Chanyeol couldn’t know that, that with Junmyeon’s lung condition he might have died at any moment- but such claims feel like denial.

Junmyeon didn’t deserve to die.

If only there was modern medicine in 1762, so he could have been saved. Just simple antibiotics might have been enough, in case it was a bacterial infection. So simple, yet so beyond reach.

But that thought plants a dangerous, foolish idea into Chanyeol’s head. At first, it’s just a quick flash, a brief what if, that he lets go without second thought. But it keeps reoccurring, keeps coming back to him, and demands an answer. Why not? Why not, seriously?

Because it will cost him his entire career. Because he will be fired, and probably penalized further. It is a crime against the time travel law, and not something that would be easily forgiven, even to someone with such a clean track record as Chanyeol. He would be throwing away his career, the life he’s built. Who knows if his friends would even talk to him, afterwards. 

The personal cost would be so high.

As Monday grows closer, he wonders if it really matters. Doing his job has been so difficult ever since he returned from the mission. His heart and soul aren’t in it anymore. The questions this mission has raised, all the doubts, they’ve eaten away at him. He doesn’t know if he can justify this anymore, everything that he has done and would have to do, should he keep working for the agency.

He knows that he’s ill-prepared for an alternative path in life, or even serving time behind bars, but this is the only thing that his moral compass speaks for in a long time. It’s the only decision that feels right.

Of course, he’s scared. He’s scared of the repercussions, but also of Junmyeon’s reaction. Is it unfair to Junmyeon, to change his life so radically without letting him have a say in it? Is it selfish of him to do this, to quiet his guilty conscience? How much is Junmyeon going to suffer from Chanyeol’s selfish decision? But no- he can ask. He can explain, and ask him to make the decision for himself, even if he will never be informed enough for it.

Junmyeon won’t be the first. There have been cases- it’s not unheard of. It is just that Chanyeol would never be able to receive official permission to do this.

But law is not always moral, and what is moral isn’t always law. 

Now, he only needs a plan.

On Monday, he walks in to work with determination. He’s made up his mind, despite the doubts that occasionally resurface, and now he only needs to make it happen. All he needs to do is keep his wits about him; as a top-level agent, he has a lot of credit and leeway with the agency. If he wants to make a trip on his own, he can. No one is going to ask for paperwork.

He drops off his belongings at the office, only sparing Kyungsoo a quick greeting, before he stalks off to the pod operating wing to go find his favourite pod operator. Baekhyun is easy to spot, his loud voice carrying far even in the busy room with agents and operators coming and going. He looks a bit startled to see Chanyeol though when he approaches him.

“Dude- you look like shit. Did- how was your weekend?” There’s caution in his words, which leaves Chanyeol to think that Kyungsoo must have told him about the discover he made last week. He should have guessed. That might make his bluff that bit more difficult to pull off.

“I just didn’t sleep well last night. Had too much coffee the day before.” He tries to wave it off, trying to sound as nonchalant as he can. “Can you do me a favor, though? I need to book in a pod flight either today or tomorrow. Two hours tops, so just a quick one.”

Baekhyun furrows his eyebrows, lips pursed. “I think we have slots for that. What for, though? Where are you headed?”

“To 1762.” And the look on Baekhyun’s face says that the operator doesn’t think that this is a good idea at all. Fuck. “Listen, I realized I need to look at something real quick. Just two hours, seriously. I’ll be in and out in a flash. I just have to go and check something, and that’s all.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with what Kyungsoo told me about you and that prince?” Baekhyun has never looked so worried, not even when Chanyeol returned from a mission bleeding profusely all over the pod. “Chanyeol, I don’t think-”

Chanyeol jumps the gun before Baekhyun can get any further with his arguments as to why this is bad. “Yes, but I’m going to go back on a day when Junmyeon has already discovered that I’m dead. I can’t just walk up to him, you know? It’s the 18th century, he believes in ghosts. I won’t do anything stupid, just snoop around for an hour or so and be done with it.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, but Baekhyun seems to be considering it. “In that case…” 

“Yes, in that case there’s no way I could do something stupid.” Big, fat lie. “I will go in at night, and move in and out without even being seen. I’ve done this a thousand times.” He gives Baekhyun the most reassuring smile he can, flashing all of his teeth, trying to stand taller. Not that he has to strain- Baekhyun is several inches shorter than him anyway.  
Baekhyun doesn’t look too happy, but can’t come up with another counter argument. “I’ll see what I can do for you,” he says with a sigh. “Can’t promise you I can make it happen today, though, but I’ll try.”

Chanyeol claps him on the back, purposefully doing it a tiny bit too hard and then grinning shamelessly in Baekhyun’s face to give the illusion of his normal, cheerful self. “Thanks, buddy. I knew I could count on you. You’re a true friend.”

Baekhyun laughs, and then rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Now go on, go back to Kyungsoo before he comes looking for your ass. You can’t be slacking off, not under his watch.”

“Now, now, you’re mistaking me for yourself. You’re the only one who’s that whipped. Doesn’t apply to me.” Chanyeol feels relieved when Baekhyun laughs his usual belly laugh, clearly amused by Chanyeol’s banter. Maybe that will help ease any doubts or concerns the pod technician might have about this. “Text me when you’ve got something for me, alright?”

“Sure, sure.” Baekhyun waves him off before returning to work, and Chanyeol leaves the wing with long strides. 

The wheels have been set in motion, now. It isn’t too late to back out, yet, but he’s made up his mind.

His thoughts keep drifting away from every single task he’s given that day. He looks around himself, wondering if this will be his last time seeing it all, doing all this. Becoming an agent was never a lifelong dream for him, simply because the existence of the agency is so top secret; no one knows that such a thing exists. He was recruited from high school, thanks to some screening process he had not been aware of, and he jumped the opportunity as soon as it was presented to him. He hasn’t looked back since, and has excelled in his job. He fits here- no, he used to fit here. Back when he didn’t question how terrible some of the things they did were.

How awful the things this job does to them. He thinks of Jongdae, thinks of everyone else who has gone to a literal war zone and come back traumatized. He thinks of the agents who caught a deadly illness from the times past and died, before the agency could develop vaccines against those. He thinks of all the terrible things he has had to watch unfold and keep silent, always in the shadows, always just observing. 

Maybe he’s had enough of this.

Kyungsoo, at least, is merciful to him, and doesn’t call him out on how absent minded he is. Chanyeol makes an effort to at least make small talk like usual, to convince his partner that he’s doing better already. He doesn’t know if Baekhyun is going to mention his impromptu trip to Kyungsoo, or if Baekhyun will just assume that Kyungsoo already knows. In case Baekhyun does tell Kyungsoo, well, things are going to get a lot dicier for him. He doubts he could convince Kyungsoo of this but if he’ll have to do it, he’d best play the part starting from this very moment. 

Nothing happens, though. Kyungsoo doesn’t mention it. It takes strong nerves on Chanyeol’s part to keep playing it cool, hide such a big thing from his partner who knows him so well, but this is also what he has been trained to do. He just needs to keep his head cool, and stay focused. He makes it a point not to check his phone or the clock too often, instead of typing away on his computer just like he would on any normal day.

Baekhyun texts him after lunch to say that he managed to schedule him a time slot for the next morning, the earliest one available. It suits Chanyeol fine because that means less people will be present and the commotion will be lesser, hopefully, but it also means that he has to wait one more night to put his plan into action. It’s going to take all the willpower he has, but there’s no helping it. 

This also increases the risk that Baekhyun might tell Kyungsoo about it later tonight when they go home, and that’s bad news. Chanyeol has to just hope that the couple has better things to do with each other than talk about work, or about Chanyeol, when they don’t absolutely have to.

The day drags on, but eventually Kyungsoo stands up to leave and go home. “Don’t stay too long now, workaholic. Go home and get some rest. Your eyebags are frightening, and it’s not a good look on you.”

Chanyeol leans back in his office chair and flashes Kyungsoo a slight grin. “But the ladies love it when they can coo and fuss over me,” he says with a playful tone, although inwardly cringing at the greasiness. His heart isn’t in it right now. But the reaction he gets out of Kyungsoo is what he was hoping for, with the roll of his eyes and the pained groan he gives before slapping Chanyeol’s arm.

“Sure, sure. Get some fucking sleep, agent Park. This is an order.” He heads to the door, pulling on his jacket. “For once in your life, do what’s best for you.”

“You’re not the boss of me!” And chances are they won’t even be coworkers for much longer. Because what Chanyeol is about to do… well, it is best for him, because it is the only decision he can live with. It’s the only decision that makes sense to him, that feels right, even if at the same time he’s throwing away a career and all the relationships that have come with it. 

He’ll regret it later, when he’s old and bitter.

He doesn’t follow up on Kyungsoo’s advice either. He stays late, drawing up an exact plan for what he’s about to do tomorrow. He’ll have two hours to complete his task, which is plenty of time unless something goes wrong. And that is what he has to prepare for; guards in unexpected places, people taking strange late night strolls, getting caught for a reason or another. 

He also has to decide on the exact coordinates to give Baekhyun. He knows that Baekhyun will recognize them, know they will take him somewhere in Seoul, maybe even recognize the specific area, but he’s sure Baekhyun won’t realize they will take him right in the middle of the palace. It’s risky, but it’s also the only way. It increases the chances of him being seen when he arrives, but it’s a chance he has to take. 

Chanyeol also has to decide on the appropriate wardrobe. He could go in dressed in the era appropriate clothes to blend in, but they will make moving more difficult, especially if he needs to be discreet. It might also make his task with Junmyeon harder if he doesn’t have anything with him to prove that he is, indeed, from the future. In the end, he decides on the agent gear they wear on missions where they’re not supposed to be seen, just moving in and out of a time and place quickly for a specific task. It will help him hide, at least. 

He perfects his plan late into the night, before finally going home. Rest does not come easy, once again, but he’s used to operating under lack of sleep. This is hardly anything, compared to the things he’s had to endure on war zones of the past. Time seems to mock him, passing so slowly, dragging on the wait, but eventually the dawn breaks, signaling the beginning of the day that could change his life forever.

It’s early in the morning, and it’s eerie out. It’s so quiet, the city around him only just waking up to the new day. Chanyeol, too, is overcome by a strange sense of calm; white noise fills his thoughts, and he’s only left with the knowledge that he knows what he’s doing. There are no more regrets or doubts, just the plan he knows he needs to complete. For better, or for worse.

It’s almost like any other mission, except this one is against all rules, all regulations. But something about that is quite liberating.

He arrives at the agency a little before 6A.M. and as he walks into the pod operating room, Baekhyun is already there. He looks haggard, to say the least, and a part of Chanyeol feels bad for doing this to him. He knows that Baekhyun will probably be questioned over this, people might blame him for arranging this, but he knows that there’s no proof of Baekhyun knowing about his plan. He will be safe.

“Got the coordinates ready?” Baekhyun even sounds gruff. Chanyeol nods and hands him the slip of paper he wrote them on, and Baekhyun doesn’t even question them before punching them into the computer. “How long do you need? Two hours good?”

“Yeah, two should be enough. If I don’t show up, then send it back an hour later.” Basic protocol, establishing rules for extra returning flights if needed. “Send me there at maybe 11P.M. or so.”

“Will do,” Baekhyun mutters under his breath as he programs the machine. “Are you going to get changed, or is that how you’re going to go in?”

“Going in like this,” Chanyeol replies. He has his slim backpack with him, some tools on his belt, a watch on his wrist, the works. He’s overprepared, really, but he can’t know for sure if he’ll have to break out of a prison or something. It all works to convince Junmyeon, as well. 

“Alright. And what was the date again?”

Chanyeol gives him a date about a week before Junmyeon dies. He figures meeting Junmyeon when he already knows he’s dying will make convincing him a bit easier, although this probably is toeing the line of taking advantage of his poor health and feverish state. But no matter. He can’t come like some kind of prophet and tell Junmyeon he’s going to die, if he doesn’t already know it and feel it. 

Baekhyun nods in confirmation and then ushers Chanyeol inside the machine. “I’ll be waiting here,” he assures Chanyeol as he watches him strap himself in. “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t do if Kyungsoo was watching you, alright?”

“Yeah, of course.” The words almost taste sour in his mouth, but soon the lies can end. Soon.

The door of the pod closes, and Chanyeol closes his eyes, letting the machine transport him back in time. Back to 1762, where he left his heart.

Now, he’s come to retrieve it. 

He lands and as soon as he does, he hits the invisibility button from the inside to hide his travelling device from view. There’s a small window, and he waits until his eyes adjust to the dark, quietly listening for anyone speaking or walking near. He had Baekhyun transport him in the middle of the gardens near Junmyeon’s quarters; not the ones in the upper palace, because getting in and out of there would be too difficult, but he knew he needed the cover of at least some vegetation. 

No one appears to be moving anywhere near him, and he opens the door of the pod to slide out on silent feet. It’s cold, now, wind tossing the light layer of snow everywhere, which Chanyeol is grateful for. It will help hide his footsteps, although the snow could possibly pile on top of the pod and reveal its existence. But he won’t be long, hopefully. 

It’s completely dark out, and he can’t see any lanterns or light shining through from windows. Everyone is asleep, as he hoped they’d be. He thanks his lucky stars and then marches forward, towards Junmyeon’s quarters.

He doesn’t encounter any guards on the way there, so he covers the distance quickly. All the windows are dark here as well, so he assumes Junmyeon to be asleep. His only worry is that someone might be watching the prince, but there’s only one way to find out. He presses against the wall, listening closely for any sounds coming from indoors, and is met with only silence. 

He knocks on the doorframe once, only lightly, to make it appear unintentional. It could be brushed off as just the wood creaking, or a bird flying against the building. He waits in the shadows, hidden by his black clothes and the darkness, watching and listening. But no one moves inside, no voices are heard. 

Another knock. This could now sound suspicious, and if anyone is awake, they might come outside to check what it is. Chanyeol waits with bated breath, counting down the seconds- yet again, nothing happens. He repeats the knock one more time and when no one still comes to the door or even moves inside the rooms, he decides to go in.

The door isn’t locked when he tries it, but it creaks as he pulls it back. He only moves it back a couple of inches and then pauses to wait for any reaction, for anyone rushing to the door, anyone calling out. When he’s met with only silence, he pulls the door open enough so he can fit through, and slips inside. 

His eyes are used to the dark, and he can see well even in the dark room. It’s Junmyeon’s study, with his low desk, instruments, books, and the like strewn about. It’s not as neat as he remembers it, and he suspects that in broad daylight, he could see a layer of dust covering everything. Junmyeon probably hasn’t touched any of this in a long time by now. 

His ears pick up on the sound of rough breathing, and then it’s followed by the all too familiar cough, although this time it sounds more painful than he’s ever heard it before. The sound both sets his heart at ease but also squeezes around his ribcage painfully; he’s missed Junmyeon so, so much, but it hurts terribly to know that he’s in such pain. That this is going to kill him. 

Chanyeol makes his way to the prince’s bedroom, walking on light feet across the wooden floors. And there, on his bed, is his sleeping beauty; his pale skin stands out against the bedding even in the dark, his chest falling and rising rapidly underneath the blankets. As Chanyeol steps up closer, he can see how uncomfortable and restless Junmyeon looks; gone is the peacefulness he remembers seeing on his face, on the two nights that they slept side by side.

Watching him now, he doesn’t know how to proceed. He doesn’t want to scare the young man, and to disturb even his troubled slumber feels too cruel. A part of him wants to back out, leave Junmyeon be. To come back, like this, after he’s abandoned Junmyeon, after Junmyeon has thought him dead… But for his own peace of mind, he must.

He kneels down next to the bed, and reaches out to gently stroke Junmyeon’s temple and cheek. The prince doesn’t stir but leans into the touch, the tension around his mouth smoothing out as though he’s finding comfort in the touch. It’s heartbreaking to witness, but Chanyeol can’t afford to be distracted now. “Junmyeon-ah… Junmyeon, it’s me.”

“Hyungnim,” Junmyeon whimpers, clearly still not awake. “Hyungnim… I have missed you so long… why did you leave me? Why…” In his troubled sleep, he’s mistaking Chanyeol’s presence to belong to a dream, and doesn’t even think to open his eyes. Again, it hurts, but Chanyeol presses on, rubbing his thumb under Junmyeon’s eye tenderly. 

“I’m here now. Please open your eyes and talk to me. I came here to do something important, and I must leave soon… Please wake up. Junmyeon. Hyungnim is real this time, I promise.”

Junmyeon turns his head towards him, and he blinks his eyes open slowly, like fighting through the layers of sleep back into lucid consciousness. His eyes look hazy and his skin is burning up against Chanyeol’s hand, his breaths shallow and irregular. Junmyeon squints his eyes at Chanyeol, as though not recognizing him, and of course, Chanyeol looks quite different dressed like this, without the topknot and the works. He waits, patiently, and he can see the exact moment when recognition dawns on Junmyeon. 

The prince jerks back and away from him, looking frightened, and Chanyeol leans in to press a hand over his mouth to stop him from screaming. He can’t have Junmyeon alarming anyone, can’t have anyone bursting in unexpectedly. Junmyeon just stares at him, eyes wide, shaking in terror, looking every bit like an animal caught in headlights. He’s struggling to breathe through his nose and Chanyeol takes pity on him, pulling away his hand slowly, hushing him at the same time to remain quiet. 

The prince is still breathing heavily, until a violent cough shakes him, his wheezing sounding almost like he isn’t breathing in at all. Chanyeol would pat him on the back to help, but he’s not sure if it’s alright to touch, so he just watches silently, waiting for it to pass. Junmyeon keeps glancing at him, and even once he’s able to catch his breath, he curls away from Chanyeol, arms folded against his chest protectively. It’s obvious he’s terrified. 

“I’m so sorry I had to scare you like this,” Chanyeol whispers, reaching out a hand for Junmyeon to take. “But I promise I’m real. I’m not a ghost, and not a fever dream. I am here, for real. Please believe me.”

Junmyeon doesn’t take his offered hand, only continues to stare at him. “But you’re dead,” he whispers, his voice raspy and hoarse. “You’re… you’re dead… Is this how you… dress in the land of the dead?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “No, I’m not dead. Feel my pulse.” He keeps his hand extended, and hesitantly Junmyeon wraps his delicate fingers around his wrist. They sit in silence until Junmyeon pulls his hand back, looking even more alarmed.

“I could feel it- I could feel your heart beat. But you’re- you’re dead. We received a letter…”

“It was a lie.” Chanyeol sits on the edge of the bed, to bridge the space between them little by little. “It was all a lie. I left Hanseong to go back- to go back to my world. The letter was just a coverup, so no one would wait for my return.”

“Your world?” Junmyeon sounds like he’s close to tears. “Where did you go? Why are you… dressed like this? I don’t understand!”

This is so much to try to explain all at once, but Chanyeol has no choice. They have less than two hours, even less if someone comes in trying to check on Junmyeon. “Remember all those strange items I had? The strange language you heard my friend speak? All those times I said it was something from a faraway land or from an odd shop I found?” Junmyeon nods his head. “They weren’t from someplace else. Rather, they were from a different time. Almost two hundred years into the future, to be exact. I come from the future, Junmyeon. You do not know our calendar, but we call this year 1762. I come from 2017.”

Now Junmyeon is looking at him like he’s grown a second head. “From… the future,” he whispers, and finally reaches for Chanyeol, to feel up the material of his strange clothes. “How is that- how is that possible?”

“We have developed a way to travel through time,” Chanyeol says hurriedly. “It’s pretty complicated, and even I don’t fully understand how it works. But I came here, through time, with my friend, on a mission. When it was over, we went back to our own time. To live our lives there.”

Junmyeon slides closer to him, to continue to pat him down. He looks at the flashlight attached to his arm, the strange items on his tool belt. He even brushes a hand through Chanyeol’s hair, clearly confused by the shortness of it. He’s quite possible seeing someone with short hair for the first time in his life. “And you’re saying… this is all from the future?” he asks, staring into Chanyeol’s eyes. “This is all from the time you come from?”

“Yes. It is all from 2017.” Chanyeol proceeds to explain why him and Kyungsoo came to this time, what their mission was; to figure out if the crown prince really was mentally unwell, or if he had been framed and assassinated by some mastermind behind the scenes. Junmyeon listens to him closely, although he still looks disbelieving. Chanyeol can’t blame him.

“So you knew… you knew that my brother was going to die? The entire time?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Chanyeol bites his lip, but he has to nod in response. The time for lies is over. It’s a relief, but at the same time, he’s more afraid than he’s ever been.

Junmyeon doesn’t seem too disappointed. Rather, it appears that he is simply taking in the fact as it is, possibly too overwhelmed by this all to really be shocked by anything. But Chanyeol still has to drop the big bomb on him.

“Junmyeon-ah… I came back because I- because I found out, when I went back, that you’re going to die soon. This illness, this is going to kill you.” And Junmyeon simply nods, his eyes cast down. 

“I… I’m not surprised,” he murmurs quietly. “I have been so ill, and I only keep getting worse… Just sitting up right now is so difficult.” He’s winded, just from talking, his breaths coming in loud wheezes even when he’s not coughing. He pats his chest lightly. “It feels so heavy here, like I can’t breathe deep. My chest hurts, everything hurts, my fever is high… hyungnim, even a man who has not been to the future knows that I’m as good as dead.” He sounds quite matter of fact, but Chanyeol can tell that it hurts and frightens him to admit it out loud. It’s what he latches onto.

“Yes- and I also read, from history records, that your health worsened because of me. Because the death of your brother, my departure, and then the news of my death made you ill, in your heart, which made you weak and made you fall sick. Is that- is that true? Were you truly upset, when I left?” He cannot help but reach for Junmyeon, bringing him in close now so Junmyeon may rest against him a bit easier. He can feel how Junmyeon trembles in his arms, his fingers trying to find purchase in Chanyeol’s clothes. 

“Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, hyungnim. I loved you- I love you, and to lose you as well as Sado- I was so sad, I was so heartbroken, I thought it would kill me. I wished it would… So I guess, I guess the heavens are now giving me what I asked for.” And Chanyeol can feel him break down in tears now, weak and powerless as he weeps against Chanyeol’s sturdy chest.

Chanyeol can do nothing but hold him, hold him tight and hope it will be enough. They do not have enough time to talk through all this- but maybe, maybe they will have a chance later. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, and kisses Junmyeon’s forehead. “I- I fell for you too. I was so heartbroken to leave you. That’s why I left so soon, without a proper warning. The night I stayed here with you, I felt so guilty for taking that from you, for making you believe I would stay when I knew I couldn’t. I felt so horrible, I rushed home and left. For that, I am sorry. I’m sorry for being the cause for this all.”

Junmyeon’s tears fall on Chanyeol’s bare neck, and soak into the material of his jacket. “It’s alright,” he replies feebly. “It is… it is alright. I understand you had to serve your country- my country. You couldn’t tell me the truth.”

Chanyeol has never deserved Junmyeon’s kindness.

“But Junmyeon- I cannot live with the idea that you are to die because of me. That I have to lose you. Lose you twice, once by leaving, and again by you dying. I can’t- I can’t live with the guilt. I know it is my fault, and I have to set it right.” He holds Junmyeon tighter, seeking courage in finally having him near. “I cherish you so much, love you… And you deserve better. You deserve to be free. You have never been happy here, you have never been allowed to spread your wings. I want to set you free. The day when we smuggled you out of the palace and went to Hanseong, I will never forget how your eyes shone, how excited you were. I want you to be free.”

“I can’t be free,” Junmyeon says quietly. “I cannot. Death awaits me- unless there’s freedom in death, then I am to be imprisoned forever.”

“That isn’t true. There is a way.” And for all that Junmyeon has taken in a stride tonight, this is going to be the biggest shock. “I came here to take you to my time with me, if you’ll let me. There they have medicine- they can heal you, Junmyeon. You will live, and you will be free. You will never be able to come back here, but you will be free… and I will be there with you.” 

To speak those words, it feels surreal. Even though he made this decision days ago, even though coming all the way here already solidified that decision for him, to actually say it out loud is madness. But here he is, his heart in his sleeve, and this is the chance he has to take. To make right what he left broken.

Junmyeon pulls away from the embrace to stare him in the eye. “To come with you? To 2017? But- but I know nothing of such a place. The things you have, the things you’ve told me, it sounds… It sounds scary. I do not know…” 

Chanyeol cannot judge him. He knows that Junmyeon can never be prepared for it, and they do not have the time for Chanyeol to even begin to explain the world of the 21st century. Junmyeon will have to take a leap of faith into the unknown, and there is no turning back. But Junmyeon is dying, here, and will be dead in a week, so really, what is there to lose?

“It will be scary. It will be confusing, too.” He cannot lie. No more lies. “But it’ll get better. You will be free. We can go to China- you wanted to go there, remember? You wanted to travel the world. Where I come from, travelling is so easy. We have flying machines that we call airplanes, and you can fly around the globe within mere hours. We can go to countries and continents you have never even heard of. And there are more books there than you will ever be able to read, and so much music. You will no longer be confined to a small palace, feeling useless no matter how hard you try… you will be free, my little singing bird.”

The prince doesn’t speak a word, just looks up at him, and Chanyeol continues. “It will be hard, I know. There will come times when you will miss this time and place, despite everything. All of us feel homesick, even if the happiness is only created by nostalgia. But Junmyeon- you deserve to live. You deserve happiness. I want to offer you that… I want to save you.”

It’s a selfish plea. But he also wants Junmyeon to have the adventures he always wanted, see him blossom into who and what he was always meant to be. Even if it won’t be with him, possibly. Even if in the end, Junmyeon doesn’t choose him, he wants to give Junmyeon this.

“And will you… will you be there with me?” Junmyeon cups his cheek, and Chanyeol thinks he can feel the way his heart is racing with how tightly he’s holding him. “Will you be there, so I won’t be scared?”

“At first it might be difficult for me to be there,” Chanyeol confesses. “It will make a lot of people upset, that I would bring you there without permission. They will want to talk to me, question me, maybe keep me in custody for some time. But also, you need to go to a place we call a hospital. It is where we treat our sick. So, maybe at first I cannot be there, but I will eventually. I won’t abandon you, not again.”

Of course, it isn’t quite as comforting as Junmyeon might have wanted it to be, but he doesn’t pull away. “And we will travel? You will teach me how your world works? Will show me all the books, all the music?” 

Chanyeol nods his head frantically. “All the books, and all of the music. Everything you want,” he says in a whisper, and then closes his eyes as Junmyeon leans in to kiss him. 

It’s feverish, as much as it’s tender. It’s soft, as much as it’s brief. It’s everything he’s yearned for in the time that they’ve been apart and even before then, and it’s also a promise for the future. A promise of something to come. It’s madness, to put this much on the line for someone he has known for mere months, but Chanyeol has always been quick to fall in love, quick to lose his heart and his soul; yet there has never been anyone like Junmyeon, who would have been so compatible with him.

He’s travelled through time and space in search of something, and found it all in this prince in his arms. 

But they do not have the time for this now, ironic as it may be. 

Chanyeol breaks the kiss first, and ushers Junmyeon on his feet. Junmyeon can barely stand, though, his legs wobbly and his breaths coming in quicker with the effort it takes. They have to hurry, not just to make it to the pod but to get Junmyeon the treatment he needs.

“You need to write a letter,” he tells Junmyeon as he walks him to the other room where Junmyeon’s desk is, supporting most of his weight so the prince doesn’t have to struggle so much. “Make it seem like the fever drove you insane. You decided to leave the palace and go to your brother’s grave- say that you felt it was your duty to be with him, anything. It’s not a good excuse by any means, but it’s the only way we can explain your disappearance from the palace overnight.”

Junmyeon seems to be beyond the point of questioning things, and so he just nods and sits down, grabbing his pen to write down the note as Chanyeol ordered. His handwriting is at least believably wonky, as he scribbles the Chinese characters on paper, the ink making dark blotches on the white paper when Junmyeon isn’t careful enough. Meanwhile, Chanyeol busies himself with getting Junmyeon ready; they cannot take most of Junmyeon’s belongings, and for most of it Junmyeon will have no need for, but he tries to take at least some memorabilia. Jewelry, little trinkets, even a small book or two. Junmyeon’s geomungo… He sighs, looking at the gorgeous instrument. They can’t fit it in the pod, as sad as it is. 

An old proverb comes to mind; to burn a geomungo to boil a crane. Essentially, as both cranes and geomungos are symbols of the scholarly aristocratic life and very sacred to the yangban, the proverb describes someone who is either making very stupid decisions in life, or is in such dire situation that even sacrificing something so precious means nothing anymore. That would probably usually mean an impoverished yangban with no name or money left, in this scenario, but Chanyeol feels like it applies here too. Desperate times call for desperate means.

He brings Junmyeon his coat and shoes just as Junmyeon finishes writing the letter. “I’ll just leave it here,” he murmurs as he leaves it on the desk, and then turns to allow Chanyeol help him slip the shoes on his feet. “They’ll… they’ll find it here.” He seems a bit shaken up and is blinking away tears, which Chanyeol can understand. He probably feels quite awful for doing this.

“If you stay, you will be dead in a week,” Chanyeol reminds him gently as he then wraps the coat around Junmyeon’s thin shoulders. “So either way, you will be leaving them behind. They will grieve, but life will move on. It always does. I’ve seen it- seen it plenty of times.”

That seems to make Junmyeon feel better, who wipes his eyes once more and then reaches out for Chanyeol to lift him up again. “You’re right,” he whispers. “They… I think, they are already preparing for my death, anyway. It won’t surprise them.”

“That’s right.” Chanyeol hoists the backpack on his back, and then scoops Junmyeon up in his arms bridal style. They have to make it across the yard swiftly, and Junmyeon right now is anything but that. Junmyeon makes a small surprised noise but doesn’t struggle, and simply wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s neck to hold on.

The gust of wind that greets them when Chanyeol pushes the door open is cold, the snow dancing ever more wildly across the yard. But Chanyeol marches forward, briskly walking across the courtyard towards the spot where he left the pod, listening closely for anyone approaching. But no movement catches his eye, no sounds carry in the wind. It is just them, in the dead of night, on this crazy mission.

“How do we go to 2017?” Junmyeon whispers as they approach the pod. “I don’t… I don’t see anything.”

“Because it’s invisible right now, the device that we use,” Chanyeol responds. In some ways, Junmyeon believing in all sorts of magical things makes explaining stuff easier. Any 21st century person would argue against the possibility of all this, while to Junmyeon it’s more of a wild fairytale. Not something to be taken in a stride, but still.

He crouches down with Junmyeon still in his arms, and reaches out of the pod blindly until his hand meets its surface. He finds the right button with instinct only and presses it to reveal it in all of its glory. Junmyeon is staring at it with wide eyes, its sleek surfaces, glass and metal blending together, but he doesn’t let go of Chanyeol to touch it. Chanyeol could point out that this is going to be how everything is in 2017, scary and unknown, but he reckons now is not the time for that talk. The clock is ticking. 

He opens the lid and then helps Junmyeon inside before strapping him in place. “This device only fits one of us, so you’re going to go first,” he explains as he works on the seatbelt with his cold hands. “They’re going to be surprised to see you, because they don’t know you’re coming. But my friend will be there. His name is Baekhyun. He will probably ask you where I am- although he will speak strange Korean. Similar to what you heard my friend speak. But he should be able to understand you. Just tell him he needs to send another pod to get me. He will do it, even if you don’t tell him to. He won’t leave me here. And then, I will be there before you know it.”

Junmyeon looks concerned. Chanyeol places the backpack in his lap as well, and glances at the clock counting down when the pod will head back to its right time and place. They have a couple of minutes. 

“Will they take me… to the hospital?” The word hospital sounds so strange rolling off Junmyeon’s tongue, in the midst of his Joseon era speech. “Before you come?”

“They might,” Chanyeol answers sincerely. “Or they might not. It depends on how many people are there, when you arrive. It could be just my friend, or a bunch of people. If it’s a bunch of people… they might be upset about this, and call in more people before I can be there with you. But do not fear. No one will hurt you. They will only blame me for doing this. No one will punish you, or hurt you. And no matter what happens, even if they won’t let me see you for a while, I will be with you eventually. I promise.” 

Of course, it is not an answer that will calm Junmyeon down. But at least he will be prepared for the reality that awaits him. “Everything is going to be alright,” he promises, and leans into to press a gentle peck on Junmyeon’s lips. “You’re going to be alright.”

“I trust you, hyungnim,” Junmyeon whispers back. “I trust you.”

Yet Chanyeol has never been worthy of that trust. He has never been truthful with Junmyeon- but it’s not too late to change that. He’s here to fix his mistakes, starting from today. He’s lucky Junmyeon forgave him and allowed him to start over. But Junmyeon calling him that reminds him of something.

“My real name is Park Chanyeol,” he says quietly, smiling softly at the prince. “I had to take on a fake name to come here. But that is my real name, my real identity. And in my time, we usually just call everyone hyung. You can call me that, if you’d like- although, I suppose that technically you’re older. You were, after all, born almost two hundred years before me.”

They both laugh over it, even if finding humor in this situation doesn’t come easy. “I’ll think about it,” Junmyeon promises, squeezing Chanyeol’s hand. “When am I going?”

“In two minutes,” Chanyeol responds, glancing at the clock. “That is, uh, how we measure time. There’s sixty minutes in an hour, and 24 hours in a day. I’ll teach you.”

“I can’t wait.” Junmyeon smiles tenderly at him, although his eyes look a bit nervous when Chanyeol announces that it’s time to go, and pulls out of the pod to close it. “You don’t have to do anything, just sit tight,” he assures Junmyeon through the lid of it with a smile that he hopes is reassuring. “I’ll see you in 2017, my prince.”

He takes a step back and watches as the pod disappears, right on time. Baekhyun is at least doing his job, so that’s good. And thanks to the laws of time travel, he doesn’t have to wait for the next pod to be sent to him; it appears as soon as the previous one disappears.

His heart is beating extra fast, when he climbs into the pod. He can only imagine the mayhem that is breaking out in the pod room, and he knows that his part in sorting it all out isn’t going to be easy. But now there is nothing to be done to reverse it. It’s final; Junmyeon is in modern day Korea, and there is no bringing him back.

Chanyeol slams the door shut, and the red numbers flash two minutes. He doesn’t even bother making the pod invisible for that time, and leaves the seatbelt undone. The sooner he can be out of the pod, the better. But as always, he closes his eyes, to take what could possibly be his last returning flight.

As soon as he feels the pod anchor itself back into reality, he jumps out of the pod, looking wildly around him, all senses on high alert. But instead there is only Junmyeon, sitting on the floor, and alarmed Baekhyun kneeling in front of him, looking more frazzled than Chanyeol has ever seen him.

“What the fuck, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun hisses at him as he sees him appear. “What the actual fuck have you done?”

“I don’t have time to explain,” Chanyeol says as he kneels down to take Junmyeon in his arms. “I have to bring him to the hospital, and then turn myself in. Or better yet- I carry him to the hospital wing, and you run off to tell on me. That way they won’t think you were in on this as well.”

“Chanyeol! This is madness!” Baekhyun appears to be in a total loss for words, and Chanyeol can’t blame him. But he also needs this conversation to be over.

“Listen- I did this knowingly and willingly. It’s on me. It’s a calculated risk, a mistake I just had to make. Please, tell Kyungsoo to take care of Junmyeon if they keep me in custody. I don’t want him to be surrounded by total strangers, it would be too scary. And tell Kyungsoo I’m sorry. He’s going to have to find a new partner.” He does feel sorry for that, and disappointed. It has been such a blessing to work with someone like Kyungsoo all this time, but now that journey has come to an end.

“Chanyeol… I shouldn’t have let you do this,” Baekhyun whispers, and Chanyeol can see tears in his eyes. “I can’t… I can’t believe this.”

“I’m sorry, Hyunnie,” is all Chanyeol can offer. “I’m really sorry. But even if I have to do jailtime, my life isn’t over. So don’t feel too bad, alright? Now go on, and rat me out. The last thing I need is you getting in trouble for this.”

He doesn’t linger after that, and marches away, carrying Junmyeon with him in his arms. That whole conversation took a lot out of him emotionally and he realizes that he’s trembling, but he pushes it away. Now is not the right time.

“Are you alright?” he asks from Junmyeon instead, hurrying towards the hospital wing. It’s placed right next to the pod operating room, because usually it’s agents returning from missions who need medical attention. “Overwhelmed yet?”

“A little bit,” Junmyeon whimpers, his eyes big as saucers as he looks around them. “It’s so… so strange. Everything… so strange.”

“I know,” Chanyeol murmurs, and presses a kiss on Junmyeon’s forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re saving my life.” Junmyeon rests his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder, and the gesture gives him the strength he needs to keep moving forward.

He walks through the sliding doors into the hospital ward, immediately startling the staff members there who rush to him immediately, probably assuming that he’s carrying an injured agent on his arms. “What happened?” someone asks, while someone else calls for a stretcher to be brought in for the agent. “What is the matter? A wound, an illness? It can’t be a gunshot, can it, not from this era.”

“He’s sick,” Chanyeol says hurriedly, and Junmyeon falls into a coughing fit just then, his whole body shaking violently with each of the hacking coughs. “He has some sort of lung condition he’s had all his life, and he has fallen sick with the flu. He’s suffocating. It could be pneumonia, I’m not sure.” 

The medical team pauses to look at him, the full meaning of his words slowly registering. “He’s- Is he an agent?” someone asks, as a stretcher is rolled in. Chanyeol doesn’t respond, and instead lays Junmyeon down gently.

“I think this might be where I have to stay back to sort things out. But my friend should come for you when he gets to work, so do not fret. No one will hurt you.” He leans in and presses a kiss on Junmyeon’s lips, before pulling away. It hurts to turn away from Junmyeon, to just let go, but he knows that it’s just another step in the plan.

He will keep the wheels moving even if they crush him.

“No, he isn’t. He’s from the late 1700s, so please, vaccinate him when you can. Agent Do Kyungsoo will be responsible for him, since I doubt I will be able to.” He turns to look over his shoulder, and isn’t surprised to see three agents running towards him, all of them looking dead serious. “Please take care of him well.”

Stalling and resistance are both futile, and so he simply walks away and towards the agents, towards the sliding doors, hands held in front of him to show that he isn’t going to fight. He even kneels down, keeping his head down, listening to the wheels of the stretchers as they take Junmyeon away.

The sliding doors open, and the three agents grab at him, lift him up on his feet. They’re not being none too gentle, just how Chanyeol expected it to be. But their words pass him by like white noise, none of it making any sense to him; everything becomes just a distant buzz, as all the stress leaves him all at once. 

He did it. He brought Junmyeon to safety.

Now all that is left is wait until they can meet again.

***

Perhaps Chanyeol had been a bit optimistic when he made estimates as to how long he would be kept in custody. It takes full six weeks before he’s finally let go and allowed to walk as a free man again. The interrogations were long and exhausting, because at first no one interviewing him believed that he was telling the truth. That he would throw away his career for such reasons; to save a life he thought he wrongfully but indirectly took, and for love. For love that had only blossomed for such a short time. Chanyeol couldn’t blame them- he knew it sounded crazy, sounded naïve, yet he never once doubted it, no matter how hard he was pushed to admit to some other motive.

Eventually, they believed him.

Kyungsoo was allowed to visit him, after a couple of weeks of that. The first meeting they had was quite a painful one, as Kyungsoo was boiling with anger and frustration towards him.

“How could you do something so idiotic? How could you do this to yourself, to poor Junmyeon, to me?” he screamed in Chanyeol’s face, making even the guards overseeing the meeting nervous. “When the fuck did you become this stupid, huh? This much of a poor sap?”

Chanyeol apologized, over and over again. It was all he good do- and eventually Kyungsoo forgave him.

“I suppose I should have expected this,” Kyungsoo admitted with a sigh of defeat. “You’ve always been… a weird romantic like that. I guess staying mad at you won’t solve anything.”

Chanyeol felt like he could cry. 

“Will you now please tell me how Junmyeon is doing?” he asked Kyungsoo later on that visit, munching away at the chocolate Kyungsoo had brought him. The small ward that they used for agents in custody was small and well kept, but certain freedoms were rather limited, such as buying sweets when he so wanted. “I’ve been so, so worried about him.”

Kyungsoo sighed again. “He’s doing as well as you’d expect him. He’s adjusted pretty well to hospital life, and he’s recovering now, slow but steady. He gave us quite the scare soon after he came but, he’s in the clear now. He says he misses you too.”

Chanyeol was not allowed to write letters, but at least Kyungsoo could deliver short messages between them. Kyungsoo kept him updated on Junmyeon’s health and his recovery, and also on his slow process of learning about the world as it is in 2017. That Junmyeon was confused to learn the hangeul alphabet, but excited about all the endless books Kyungsoo could bring him from the library. That Junmyeon was eternally amused by the concept of smart phones, although Kyungsoo had only taught him how to play a couple of games on one of his old phones and nothing else. That Junmyeon disliked the hospital food but enjoyed all the various snacks and treats available. Just various little things Chanyeol wished he could have witnessed for himself- but his hope was that even after he’d get out, there would still be things left to show his little prince.

After the interviews and interrogations were over, came the trials. It wasn’t a long process because the time travelling agency has its own court system in place, since none of these things could be discussed in public court. At least for that Chanyeol was grateful for, because he could not have waited months and months to receive his sentence.

He admitted to being guilty first thing, as there was absolutely no point in arguing that. But he did make an effort, together with the lawyer he had been appointed, to prove that he had done very little harm; he had done his best to cover up his tracks in 1762. In fact, as it turned out, no history records had changed after what Chanyeol did. It appeared that the court had assumed Junmyeon to have perished either on the way to the mountain where his brother was buried, or on the grave there, and declared him dead a week after his disappearance without bothering to write down what had actually happened.

In the end, Chanyeol does get fired from his job. He expected as much, and he has had ample time to come to terms with it. But at least they let him go. 

“The nature of this crime is such as that there is no reason to believe he will commit it again after being laid off his duties. Furthermore, the man he brought with him to the present time, who has chosen to go by the name Kim Junmyeon, depends on the defendant emotionally and financially. Kim Junmyeon would already have been released from the hospital, but with no one to assist him in adjusting, he has been held in the ward. To ensure Kim Junmyeon’s smooth transition into civilian life, great care should be taken. The court will thus appoint the defendant with this duty, to avoid having to waste any of the agency’s resources on this task.”

It’s the best outcome Chanyeol could have asked for, and he bows down deep in front of the judges before walking out of the small court room. He’s free, he’s free. It feels surreal, even after just six weeks, but this is the moment he has been waiting for.

With Junmyeon officially assigned to him to rehabilitate into the modern lifestyle, he will be entitled to a small sum of money every month to help cover the expenses of supporting him for the first year of his new life in 2017. It will help keep them afloat, together with Chanyeol’s savings, until they figure this out.

He’s so relieved he could cry, but first, he has to see Junmyeon. 

Junmyeon is his- at least, for as long as it takes for him to learn how to fly.

Kyungsoo is waiting for him outside already, having made it out of the court room before him. His lips are pressed into a thin line as he walks up to Chanyeol, but the hug he gives him speaks more than a thousand words. 

“I’m so sorry we can’t work together anymore,” Chanyeol whispers to him, wrapping his arms around his now former partner. “I’m sorry I put you through all this. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Kyungsoo murmurs, and he almost sounds like he’s close to tears. When he pulls away, he pointedly doesn’t make eye contact with him. “It’s what friends do for each other. But now- I believe you have someone who is waiting for you very impatiently. He’s all dressed up and ready to go. I promised him I would take him home with me today, if you got jail time- but thankfully you didn’t. You big oaf.”

Kyungsoo has done so much for Junmyeon, looking after him, keeping him company, becoming his friend even. That is one more thing Chanyeol will never be able to repay him. But Kyungsoo is right. He has to see Junmyeon right this moment.

He can’t help his impatience, and jogs through the long hallways to make it to the hospital ward. It feels strange to be free once more, although people are definitely staring at him as he passes them by. His face and name have become somewhat infamous after the incident, which was to be expected. But Chanyeol cares very little, only focused on one thing. He’s been waiting for this moment for the past six weeks. 

Kyungsoo told him how to find Junmyeon’s room at the hospital, and Chanyeol is grateful he doesn’t have to stop to ask anyone for directions. He’s slightly out of breath when he finally arrives at the right floor, having run up two flights of stairs, and he finally slows down to a walk. But he realizes that he’s nervous- nervous to see Junmyeon. There are still many questions that are unanswered, many things left unsaid between them, and he doesn’t know what he expects to come out of this. He hesitates, even as he reaches for the door, and peaks inside through the small window on it, his heart in his throat. 

And Junmyeon is there, seated on the bed. He’s dressed in a soft looking sweater and jeans, a book over his crisscrossed ankles, and there’s a small bag next to him on the bed, ready to go. His hair has been cut short and it looks raven black in the white hospital room. It’s such a beautiful image and Chanyeol’s heart fills with something warm, giving him the courage to push the door open and enter.

“Junmyeon-ah.”

Junmyeon looks up at the sound of his voice, and the smile that overcomes his handsome features is the most breathtaking sight Chanyeol has ever seen. “Chanyeol hyung!” he exclaims, still in his soft Joseon era accent and so, so precious, as he hurries up on his feet and rushes to hug Chanyeol fiercely, his small weight almost tackling Chanyeol to the ground.

“You came- you came for me. Like you promised.”

“Of course, Jun-ah. Of course. I promised I would never lie to you again. I meant what I said.” Tears burn in Chanyeol’s eyes even as he squeezes Junmyeon closer to him. He cannot imagine the stress and uncertainty Junmyeon has suffered already, and he’s so sorry for him, but he knows that apologizing is not the right thing to do. It’s water under the bridge- now he needs to give his all to make sure Junmyeon will have his happily ever after.

Junmyeon turns his head to press a shy kiss on his cheek, before nuzzling close to him once more. “And I’m healthy, like you promised I would be,” he whispers, almost like he doesn’t believe it. “Hyung- I’m so happy you’re here. I want to start our adventure already. Kyungsoo hyung has been so kind and has shown me so much but I know there’s so much more out there, and I want to hold your hand when I discover it all.”

There are many things he could say, and many things he wants to say, eventually. But right now there’s only one thing that he really needs.

“Then let’s start by going home together.”


End file.
